


Time & Time Again

by JustABitOdd



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: College Student, Fluff and Angst, I suck at writing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It sucks bad, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Plenty of trigger warnings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader goes through resets, Reader had problems, Sans Remembers Resets, Things Get Ugly, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, i'll warn you, occasional strong language, papyrus is a cinnabun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustABitOdd/pseuds/JustABitOdd
Summary: Once upon a time a human emerges from a mountain with the monsters in tow. And then again, and again, and again. Over and over the cycle goes, sometimes for years, sometimes days. In Ebott City you repeat the same week over and over, at the expense of a kid you've never met. Until, one fateful day you meet Sans and Frisk. And then Papyrus. And then Toriel. And you can't seem to get away from them. No matter how hard you try, they seem attracted to you. Or maybe you're attracted to them.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first ever work! It's bad. REALLY bad. There will also be a lot of trigger warnings. I will be sure to let you know how to avoid them, and tell you basically what happened without the bad stuff. Anyway, thanks for checking this out!  
> ~<3

Glowing screen in the middle of the night. It spells out the same words. Written the same way. Saying the same thing. The words ring in your head like bells. Crisp and clear, altered to perfection. Your eyes droop heavily, but your fingers know their place by now. It didn’t take you long to memorize the keys on the keyboard. Of course, the first time you were extremely upset. Having to rewrite an entire seven page essay on a Sunday night was not the most entertaining thing to do. But you did it anyway, and now you could type it half asleep, forehead resting in the crook of your elbow. That’s what you’re doing right now. Quickly finishing an essay that’s due tomorrow at your college. The one you’ve been going to for three years now….or maybe a thousand years. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters, not really, but for now this does.

There’s this spark in the air, a feeling of change, one that could make or break you. But that’s okay. The feeling of standing on an island in a sea of drowning thoughts is there, but that’s okay too. Everything will be...is okay. Thinking it makes it true. Or does saying it make it true?

“I’m okay?” The end peaks like a question, making you unsure, so you say it a few more times. Then a few more. Until you’re saying it like a prayer. Like some god will hear you and make it true, make everything go away. Fix the broken world you live in.

 

But you can’t fix something that’s broken, can you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	2. Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monster Day

    There’s a saying at Orandore University. ‘Do your work,’ it that saying. It refers to the countless students that don’t bother to complete even the simplest of assignments. A pack of them sit under the trees giggling about the latest and most expensive trends. Self entitled pricks with rich parents and jocks that got in on some stupid sports scholarship make up most of the crowd. Of course there’s always the occasional soft guy with a fun personality, or the loveable rich girl with the most generous heart, but they’re busy with other things. Mostly falling in love with each other.

    Then there are the nerdy kids, who follow the school saying with a vengeance, completing task after task of needless work. They crowd together, obsessing over the latest episode of Game of Thrones, or shouting to the heavens about the Charmander they just evolved. Sometimes you wish you could tell them it’s all pointless, the world will begin again. You tried that once….

But no one remembered.

After the nerdy kids come the mentally messed up ones. You don’t mean the unfortunate people with brain problems. You mean the kids who laugh about heads on stakes. The ones that try to sell you drugs and always have a strange look in their eyes. Those that just barely manage to scrape by the dean’s watch. Speaking of the dean, no one knows who the person is. All the students really know is the dean is a guy. He never leaves his office, never lets anyone in, and never kicks kids out. The dean’s assistant, Marcia, does that. Marcia is extremely strict and has punished without mercy. She prowls the school all day in search of prey. She also combs the dorms for smuggled drugs and anything else against school rules, a clear violation of privacy, but she has the authority to do basically anything she wants.

You, thankfully, don’t live on campus. You live in a tiny one-room house on the ground floor of a miniscule apartment complex. It’s a few blocks away from the school and in your no-sleep-zombie state it takes you the better part of 30 min to get to campus. You shuffle there in a black shirt under a grey cardigan with dark blue jeans and a pair of ankle high boots. Your black hair is itchy from a lack of showering and the constant scratching is making your messy braid even messier. The backpack you wear bumps against your back uncomfortably. Oh well, you’ve been worse.

    You stagger onto school grounds with a neutral expression on your face. You know the entire school up and down by now, so you let your mind wander as your feet navigate the grass that makes up the courtyard.

    Orandore University is made up of two, two story buildings, one on each side of the grass. A few trees grow among the fields of green, giving shade to those who seek it. Your feet take you towards the left side of campus, following the sidewalk that makes a ‘Y’ in the clean cut grass. The red and brown brick building looms tall over you. Its twin hides the sun from view for a few moments more before allowing its rays to reach you. The doors to your building open with a creak and a groan.

    The interior looks like your typical public high school. Probably because it used to be a giant high school. The floors are tiled white and blue, complementing the newly painted white walls. There were no pictures or fancy posters to spice the place up. There are no lights in the halls (It preserves money) so it’s dark.

This place receives funding from the government, but since it is so out of the way it gets little to no money. Student loans are killer, the only reason you’re here is because of your scholarship. As long as you keep your grades up, you could continue to go here. Of course, being here isn’t exactly appetizing anymore. One can only experience so many of the same days before they grow tired. And you are very tired.

    Pushing the depressing thoughts aside, you continue in your trek to class. After walking these halls so many times you could navigate them with your eyes closed. You nearly do just that. Your stomach rumbles as you realize you haven’t eaten. The…..whatever was happening….had been getting worse. You never bothered to eat or sleep. What would be the point if you were just going to wake up refreshed and healthy again?

 

    Though, it doesn’t matter how long things go on, as long as they continue…..

 

    A white light blinds you, causing your arm to come up instinctively. You blink at the sudden attack on your eyes. The invasion of light shines from a lightbulb hanging by a cord in the middle of a room. From your vantage point in the doorway you see the Professor, Mr. Holloway, and the twenty some students sitting in desks. When you said this place was an old highschool you weren’t kidding. Ever since the population of Ebott dropped, Orandore High was replaced by Orandore University. Though in the other building the top floor is used for the parents stupid enough to let their children get secondary and elementary education in a tiny, decrepit building in the middle of nowhere, right next to a suspected dormant volcano.

    Yes, people think Mt. Ebott is a dormant volcano. When the first child went missing forty years ago, people had been poking around there. Scientists went up there to check it out once. They came back, claiming their instruments went whack when up there. They tried a few more times before leaving. Apparently one of the scientist’s kids went missing. He was never seen again.

    The feeling of wood under your arms wakes you once again. Blinking, you see that Mr. Holloway is now in front you, talking about something or other. Being half asleep has disoriented you, giving you no clue as to where you are. Blinking a bit more, you notice you’re sitting at your desk. You don’t bother taking anything out of your bag.

    A quick glance at the clock, and memory kicks in. Mr. Holloway's classroom slowly comes into focus. Same white walls and tiled floor. Mr. Holloway is the Science professor, but he acts like a child. He keeps random memes on the walls, and at his desk he keeps a ‘That Was Easy’ button, for special occasions. He even dyed his hair neon green, so it compliments his greyed out band shirt, baggy-less-than-professional-sweats, and random labcoat.

    The other students in class are a blur. You can’t remember their names or faces, but you can remember seeing them here before. From the looks of it a few people are missing. Usually, you know everyone and understand everything going on around you, but today you don’t really feel…..in it right now. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep.

    Mr. Holloway welcomes you happily and begins his lesson. Right on time as always. You tune out of the lecture, letting his words float around you. He starts with his usual spiel about tests and homework, before going into the topics for today. It’s been a few hours, and class is about over, when he changes the subject. He goes on about the Many Worlds Interpretation. You’ve heard his speech so many times you mouth the words along with him without noticing what you’re doing.

    “The Many Worlds Interpretation is, in its simplest form is the idea that for every decision an alternate universe is created in which the option you didn’t chose is used in the other’s stead. For example, say you are buying a house. There is House A and House B. After much consideration, you chose House B. The moment you made that choice, an alternate universe is created where you bought House A. Or perhaps, another is created where you buy House C instead!! It is all up to chance. In this fashion hundreds of thousands of different universes are created, all based around our world! Anyways, the idea itself was……” He trails off at a knock at the door. All the students but you lean forward in their seats. You’ve done this so many times, you have to refrain from mouthing along with the panting attendant behind the door.

    When Mr. Holloway opens the door, he greets the man happily. He seems to do that a lot. Carlo pants in his uniform for a solid minute before returning Mr. Holloway’s greeting. Carlo finally stands up properly, dusting off his dark grey uniform. The grey in his sandy blonde hair stands out in the little light of the classroom. Aside from carrying messages from teacher to teacher , Carlos is also the custodian, college police, tutor, and counselor for those kids who need it. Arms crossed over his extremely flat stomach, he pauses, as if considering his words before proceeding. “H-Hello. Sorry for interrupting, but…..we have news. Dean says all classes are canceled for today,” A cheer goes up in the crowd. Carlos smiles. You always thought he was the coolest, he understood the young adult’s rejection of knowledge. “Anyways, you know Mt. Ebott, right? Well a bunch of monsters just emerged from there!! They will be hanging out around town. So, be nice, welcome them with open arms! I’ll see you all around!” Carlos waves and disappears, his footsteps pattering away.

    The room bursts into sudden movement. Mr. Holloway can’t be heard over the sounds of anxious students ready to get out as soon as possible. You grab your bag, pulling your phone out as you go. The half-summer half-fall temperature is just enough to make you uncomfortable. As you exit college grounds, your legs choose a course that almost surprises you. Onwards to the Nice Cream stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	3. Sans and the Nice Cream Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans the pun-loving Skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another thingy! I have waaay to much time on my hands.....

The stand is a bit into town, but still in the outskirts enough to not aggravate the sensitive humans who can’t really grasp the idea monsters are real. If you remember correctly, most of the monsters are up in a camp near the base of Mt. Ebott. Only the ambassador, their family and close friends, and the more brave monsters are out and about. Speaking of brave monsters….

A cute little monster is standing in front of you in line. The cap he wears is pointy, but it suits him well. He takes the Nice Cream from the guy at the stand before leaving. You paint a smile on, so as not to worry the owner of the cart. He smiles back, “What can I getcha?” You ponder for a moment before coming to a conclusion, “I…..don’t really know what to get. Can you choose one for me..?” The words sound hollow coming out of your mouth, but Nice Cream Guy grins for a moment before opening his freezer and handing you a small white package. You take this moment to take in the blue fur and cartoonish bunny ears. You take the Nice Cream from him. Handing him the money you wonder to yourself.

“Oh! Hey what’s your name?” You ask him, mentally kicking yourself for asking. His smile gets just a bit wider. “Ah, well I’m Nice Cream Guy, but most people call me NCG.” The name makes your fake grin just a bit more genuine. Leave it to the monsters to come up with fun names to cheer you up. Thanking him, you move out of line. Lucky for you there are a few benches nearby. The first is occupied by a bunch of humans, all squished together. The bench beside them is empty except for a small volcano looking monster. Your legs move mechanically, and the smile you painted on twitches. You should be used to socializing with racist humans by now, but you still can’t keep the fake smile for very long. You take a seat by the volcano, offering him a soft smile. They look surprised, but welcome you all the same. You give the other humans a very pointed glare. They whisper among themselves for a moment before one walks over and sits on the other side of the small volcano. They start in surprise, rustling and bubbling uncomfortably. Brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes. You think he may be a resident in your apartment complex, but you can’t be sure. The human looks away for a second before speaking.

“H-Hi. I’m Brian….I-I’m sorry if I’m being a bit antisocial but….you have to understand this is so new for me. For all of us. I-I try to be o-open minded. I just….it’s strange you know? Sorry

“No, I get it,” The small volcano looks up at Brian, “We just suddenly popped out of a mountain. It’s strange and you want to be friends but you just don’t know how to feel. I get it….” They look down at the boiling pavement below. The lava in their head is bubbling fiercely. If you didn’t know any better, you would say they were flustered.

You finish off the Nice Cream you didn’t know you were eating, carefully licking juice off your fingers. You get up to throw away the wrapper when you notice a pair of eyes watching you. Well, more like pair of eyelights. The appearance of the monster slightly throws you off and you mentally scold yourself for being so easily distracted. Just, the way he was staring. Like he was trying to pierce your soul. Of the thousands of times you had lived through this life, you had never seen a monster like him. One of his eyebrows quirk. You quirk one back at him. His head tilts slightly and you mimic the gesture, earning a giggle from something behind the monster. The head pokes out to show a small human child in a blue and purple striped sweater. How they can stand the heat in the oversized sweater you don’t know, but they do. 

As you throw the Nice Cream wrapper away, the monster stands, tugging the child’s hand along. They throw him a questioning look, but comply, happily licking the Nice Cream in their hand. The skeleton towering over you approaches with a blank look on his face.

Well, not towering over you. He’s only a few inches taller, but it feels like more. He just stands there for a moment. You notice the basketball shorts and tennis shoes. The kid beside him pulls at  the pocket of their shorts and points at the ground near their brown boots. The style is odd but it suits them and their short brown hair. They seem to be squinting, though you notice the brown color behind their long lashes. 

“Take a picture, It’ll last longer.” The tone in your voice is more harsh than you meant, but right now you’re tired, hungry, and feeling antisocial. The corners of the smile you had been wearing tug downward slightly, just enough for you to notice.

“sorry, for bothering ya, jus’ wanted to thank ya for helping out vulcan there.” He jerks his head towards the volcano, how was now happily chatting with several humans. The sight is endearing and reminds you that the Vulcan ends up with a human boyfriend. Your fake smile became one of amusement at the thought. 

The monster looks at you funny before clearing his throat and turning to the kid. “come on kiddo, we’ve got some food to eat. tori ‘ll kill me if we stay any longer. an’ don’ tell her we were eating nice cream. she’ll have a  **bone to pick** with me.” The kid giggles a bit before nodding. You turn away quickly, already on your way home. 

“wait,” He turns back to you. If he notices your hurry to leave, he doesn’t say anything. "i forgot to introduce myself. i’m sans. sans the skeleton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 
> 
> ~<3


	4. An Update Regarding Updates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A complicated and also very straight forward explanation that makes no sense.

A comment made by [Haileyice7](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Haileyice7/pseuds/Haileyice7) (thank you) inspired me to make a update schedule that is official and makes sense. Sort of.

Updates will always officially be on Friday. If I am suddenly inspired to write two chapters a week then I will update on Friday and also on the extra day. For example, I feel the need to share a chapter right away and update on Tuesday. I will then write another chapter that will be updated the following Friday as planned. I get to share more with you, and you guys get a second chapter in one week. Chapters will also become longer than before. Thank you to [UltimateGamer101](http://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateGamer101/pseuds/UltimateGamer101) for pointing that out. Hopefully everything makes sense.

If you have any questions feel free to ask away, I will get to you ASAP! Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!! Thank you for continuing to read my story, I appreciate all the support!!!

~<3

 

 

~~(p.s. I will be updating on Friday as the start of this brand new, wonky update schedule.)~~


	5. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're home! Your happy little home leads to bad dreams and a day of agonizing college classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:  
> -If you have problems with suicidal mention and/or self harm, please skip the parts I have marked off.

‘The body protects the soul emotionally in a series of layers. The first layer is what most people see. It is the easiest to control. This is your facial expressions, body movements, and overall way of acting. Most people can read and understand the first layer. People who are socially awkward usually have trouble reading facial expressions. Layer one is the surface, not unlike the crust of our planet. This layer is the thinnest of all others, which is what makes it so easy to see through. Liers find that the surface is the easiest to lie from. This is what most parents look for when looking for lieing children. Of course, seeing into the second layer makes finding rouge children even easier.

The second layer is thicker than the first, thinner than the rest. It is the part of you that people who hide their emotions use. Put on a blank face and control the way you look and act, completely changing the atmosphere around you. Good liers use the second layer to convince people of their innocence. The second layer does not protect against lie detectors however. While it changes what is outside, on the inside the lie is still there. Most people realise how to use this layer when they grow older, using it to lie about how they are, or keep others from worrying. This is the part parents use to keep their children happy and under control in dire situations by feigning a calm manner. Although, some people are naturally calm and collected. The second layer acts as a sort of mantle, albeit a thinner one. It shields the third layer.

The thickest and strongest layer of the mind and soul is usually hard to control. It does almost the same thing the second does, only better. Most liers stop here, unable to change the final layer. It takes practice, concentration, and a bit of natural talent to hide behind this layer. There is not much to know about the third layer other than it is difficult to read.

The fourth and final layer is second thickest and protects to soul from prying eyes. This layer is said to be impossible to hide. It is hard to study this layer as it is close to the soul. No tests have been taken to see just what this layer does. All that is really known is that this is the hardest layer to read if hidden.

The soul. Not much needs to be said about the function of the soul. One’s emotions are displayed prominently for all to see, if you just peel back the layers. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. This is true. If you know what to look for, you can see the soul inside of someone through their eyes. Or by pulling them into a battle. Or by being emotionally attached to the person.’

The essay goes on about how the traits can affect the soul, but you can’t bring yourself to read it. Besides, how reliable can an online essay really be? Besides, the body can only take so much. Your eyes droop from lack of sleep, and you can feel your stomach eating away at your insides.

After coming home from the Nice Cream stand, you collapsed on the couch with your laptop.. The encounter with the skeleton Sans made you curious about the monsters. You’ve known about souls for a long time, but that doesn’t mean you ever pursued the idea. Waking up to the same week everyday killed any ideas to do anything. You don’t know if it’s the sleep loss or the change in the air you felt last night, but you feel curious. Even the thing with the Vulcan at the Nice Cream stand was odd. Normally you don’t bother helping human-monster relationships. Why would it matter if  the whole world would just restart? But something told you to help, to try something new. What’s wrong with you today?

With souls and monsters on your mind, you sit up from your slumped position on the couch, the long sleeves and oversized pants of your pjs dragging when you move. The window view of the apartment complex is less than appetizing, and you find yourself closing the blinds. Not like the night sky would add any light to your dim one bedroom apartment. A reluctance to stay online, and a half-asleep brain make you close your laptop, abandoning it on the floor, choosing to sprawling on the couch instead.

Your eyes travel walls a faded grey, brown carpets, dark colored couch, and white washed front door. It’s only slightly depressing to note that you have no other furniture, instead books litter the floor. The genres ranged from history to fantasy to sci-fi. They lay in piles of twos and threes, scattered haphazardly. Odd seeing as you have a bookcase in your room. Then again, it’s in no better shape. Maybe you should have a book sale one of these days. You pick up a random one by the spine, leaning on your elbows as you scan the cover.

It has no cover, instead adopting a faded red leather casing. It strikes you as strange that it should have leather. Then again, you have no idea what normal hardcover books are made of either. Running your finger along the page edges sows it has uneven edges, ripped and teared haphazardly. It crackles when you open it, that old paper smell wafting into the air. The first thing you see is an old polaroid photograph, taped on by the corners. It’s clearly in color, but it hasn’t been taken care of, blurring most of the picture into a hazy grey. Four smiling faces look back at you. The first, and tallest holds the seconds shoulder protectively. They look happy, set together in perfect harmony. The first appears male, the second female. Perhaps a mother and father? The seconds left hand rests on the shoulder of the third, firmly keeping them in place. Beside the third is a fourth, shorter than the rest and smiling a toothy grin. The fourth appears to be a young girl with jet black hair reaching to their shoulders. Bright eyes the color of charred coal. Her appearance jolts your brain.

The room begins to spin in a splash of red and orange. The screams of a family long dead echo uncomfortably in your brain. You can feel yourself shaking uncontrollably as your voice joins the screams. Their ghostly forms swim in and out of focus. Marcus, the tall, happy farmer with the cheeky grin. Alicia with the golden hair to rival your jet black, quick to trust and even quicker to offer help. Adrian, perfect child number one, athlete of the century, perfect face and body with the greatest attitude in all the cosmos. They yell and scream in agony, while you, the lonely number two, watch them burn to ashes.

Funny, the pounding of your neighbors, screaming at you to ‘Shut up!’ is what keeps you from the never ending nightmare. Their faces fade to shadows, a family lost to this world. Memories better left dead get flinged away with the book they resided in. You hadn’t even realised you kept it. Your mother's old journal.

As much as you would love to lay there forever, the fabric of the couch keeps scratching your cheek uncomfortably, and you’re fairly sure you have to get up in the morning. Despite the tremors still running through you, your muscles in your back stretch as you stand in the sea of books. You shuffle into your grey walled and brown carpeted room with as much enthusiasm your sleep deprived brain can muster. Books rise in your wake, scrambling them around on the floor. Not unlike the room you came from, your room has minimal furniture. At least the book sea is contained by the book shelf. You nearly bump into the wide, squat dresser a few feet from the bed. The bedsprings creak when you lay facedown on the bed with the light blue blanket. You can’t bring yourself to eat any food. You’ll just have to eat a bunch later. Can’t even bring yourself to get up and brush your teeth in the bathroom nearby. It’s white tiled floor, sink, mirror, and small shower call you, but you can't listen. You're already asleep.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

_When the world began again, you were confused at best. You figured it was just a dream, born from the stress of everyday life. You went around with a serious case of deja vu. What nagged at you the most was the date. Why would the world suddenly restart after two years? Then it happened again, this time only two weeks after the world began again, the beginning of the second week being the day monsters escaped. At that point you went to the news, asking if anyone else in the country felt the effects. It became headline news quickly, people being so bold as to send a party up to welcome the monsters. You didn’t go, to wrapped up in interviews to actually attend, but you saw it on TV latter. The look on the monsters faces when they saw was priceless. But then the world restarted. So it went for many cycles. You tell, a party is sent, they greet, the world restarts._

_The very first time the monsters didn’t emerge from the mountain, you were so confused, but also relieved. The fame had grown dull, attention unwelcome. You watched on national television as the team sent to greet the monsters turned to leave. As they did someone, or rather, something emerged. Just a kid. A single kid with a dusty knife and a rotten smile._

 

_The human race lasted five months._

 

…...

_Blood spills across the floor, reminding you of the tears in your skin. They burn when you try to move. The burning spreads into your arm and becomes a blinding pain. You’re pretty sure your arm is broken. Screams fill the small room, people gathered for a party you planned. A man you don’t remember slips and falls on his own blood, clutching at a wound threatening to spill out his insides. Someone pushes him on their way to the door. They make it halfway before they’re killed by a flying projectile. It’s pitch black like the night, returning to the sender once it’s deed is done. The child grins as they take in the scene, pure and utter hatred filling the air. It rolls in midnight black clouds, spreading like wildfire. You choke once, twice, before succumbing, lying still on the kitchen floor. The last thing you see is their glowing red eyes._

 

_……(SUICIDE/SELF-HARM WARNING)_

_The world keeps restarting. It goes on over and over in a never ending cycle. It drives you mad, thinking of all the lives suffering. All around the world, people's lives repeat, not a single person sharing your memories. Your pain. It hurts to keep going, so you don't. It isn't nearly as hard to stop breathing as one may think. Human beings are very fragile things._

_……_

_The knife on your skin leaves a red line in its wake. It burns, it burns so much it become almost unbearable, but you keep going. Until your skin turns red. Until your mind stops screaming. Screaming at you. Your fault, your fault, YOUR FAULT. The screams only fade with the spilling of blood._

_Who knew towels could be so good at cleaning up blood? It stains the couch a grey-scarlet. It's a welcome break from the suffocating grey. The TV blares nonsense in the background, stopping the silence suffocating you. Your hands shake as you clean the knife and throw away the ruined towel. Sit down, stare at nothing while seeing everything._

_……_

_Your grip tightens on the knife. It hasn't stopped, it never stops. The voices, the screaming. The feeling of guilt. The sins crawling down your back. It gets easier. Detaching from who you are, slowly but surely. The descent into madness. You can't let that kid hurt everyone. The kid in the sweater it's way too hot for. Why was that kid at the stand so familiar? The flash of red eyes. The glow of brown. Why didn't you notice before? Why didn't you care? Or better yet,_

 

_Why do you care now?_

 

\----------------------(SUICIDE/SELF HARM WARNING OVER)------------------------

 

You wake afraid and confused. Where are you? What’s happening? The walls of your room blur, the air cold and hot at the same time. You sit up to find your legs got tangled in the blanket, forcing you to struggle for several minutes before falling out of bed. The ground hurts to land on, but you keep from crying out. For a bit you just sit there, staring off into space. The thoughts in your head keep racing around, so you decide to go through them carefully, one at a time. Maybe you’ll be able to explain your irrational behaviour. You even grab your computer from its place on the floor, settling on the couch to type down what you conclude to be normal and not normal.

First, you woke up and went to college. That’s normal, you always go to that college. You have been for about three years, trying to get your Bachelor’s degree in physics. The work was hard at first, then the world began to reset, and you got the same lessons over and over. Eventually the information stuck, giving you a solid grasp of everything you had been taught.

Then, you went to class, Carlos came in, and he said the monsters were free. Since in this time period you didn’t say anything to the public about monsters, your day proceeded as normal and you went for Nice Cream in the near summer heat. Why Nice Cream? You hadn’t been over there in a long time, since the world began to restart. Trivial things like Nice Cream didn’t seem important anymore.

At the Nice Cream stand you saw monsters. That’s normal. But then you saw the Vulcan. You knew things wouldn’t be great between humans and monsters right off the bat, and that’s normal, expected actually, but a feeling told you to change that. A feeling you weren’t even aware of until now. It’s the same one you felt Sunday night, that feeling of change, that spark of hope. It hurts to think that maybe the world will continue in this cycle of never ending days. Maybe the human race deserves it. Or maybe the world is being controlled, a group or maybe even one person deciding if the world goes on or not. The thought is terrifying. If a single person was responsible, why would they do this? Why didn’t they notice when you told the public about monsterkind? More importantly, how are they altering time? And is there any way to stop them?

    The thought of never escaping fills you will dread, so you push on, ignoring the fact that maybe the world is just broken. Because it can’t be broken. If it is, the world may be doomed to forever live in a repeating cycle. Push away the bad things, steam roll ahead to the facts.

    You met Sans and the kid he was with. That was new. After introducing yourself you said goodbye and left. No need to continue socializing. After that you hurried straight home and collapsed on your couch. You wonder if maybe you could have been a bit nicer in dealing with the skeleton, but honestly after a long day of sitting, you didn’t feel like doing anything.

Speaking of not doing anything, you don’t remember the last time you ate. A quick glance at the time shows it’s early enough for breakfast and a shower. You shuffle through a sea of books, nearly tripping when your pants get caught on a particularly large pile of books. The kitchen is surprisingly clean. You have this strange OCD where kitchens and bathrooms must be spotless, but everywhere else can be a mess. Case in point the living room compared to the bleached white tiles and sparkling clean sink. Cold, white, tiled floors freeze your feet as you grab a bowl from an overhead cabinet. It sparkles in the single light stuck into the ceiling, a single rose decorating the very center. It’s a very delicate bowl that you set down on the carefully scrubbed countertop.

One thing you never understood was why the kitchen was so fancy. When you imagined the place you figured it would look terrible, a mess that would haunt you for the rest of your life. Instead, you got a tiled floor (only a bit dirty), three cabinets (one had a cockroach in it), a sink (it had a few stains), and a countertop (it smelled of alcohol). The wonders a bottle of bleach and a scrubber brush can work.

Grabbing some cereal for a cockroach free cabinet you notice you have little to no food. Maybe after school today you can go shopping. If you want to stop feeling so hungry you should start shopping, there has to be a store somewhere. Something to consider…….

Drop the cereal into the bowl, put back the cereal, grab the milk, pour it in, put it back, eat the food. You sit at the couch, staring at nothing for a long time. Then you set down your bowl and leave for the bathroom. It’s getting late, but you still take the time to admire the sparkling surface that is the tile floor. Good to know that even the world restarting over and over can’t keep you from keeping the place spotless. Quick shower, get dressed, get ready, hurry to college, finish up, drift through lunch, last class of the day, walk home, realise you didn’t go grocery shopping. Maybe some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	6. THE GREAT PAPYRUS (does he need any more introduction?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to the store. Then you meet-er-run into Papyrus. He give you a ride home and you curse yourself for not having your phone on you.

Wednesday, your no school day. It’s a good thing to, you just ran out of food. The only things you have left is a few rotten apple slices and a bottle of orange juice with a few drops spoiling away. A shopping spree has been something you delayed for weeks. Even before life became meaningless you were running out of clothes that fit and you put off grocery shopping until the very last minute. Between college, your part-time job, and dealing with the depression in the back of your head, you never really had any time (or made the effort) to go out and buy things in the crowded, over-cooled building people called the mall. You have nothing else you have to do, yet you find yourself stalling, sitting on the couch in your pyjamas, laptop open to some website or other. You aren’t actually looking at the screen, instead you have your head tilted upwards, feet propped up on a stack of books you pulled together. 

Opening your eyes, you find that it’s nearly noon and you still haven’t gotten up from the couch. Coming home from school to discover you needed food you fell asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. It was the standard issue night terror about the fire that stole your childhood. The same walls of fire and screaming faces. Only this time there was a figure. You couldn’t make it out from your vantage point, but you swear it was looking at you. Staring right into your soul. 

It reminds you of another person. One that used to stare at you from, a distance until finally making his move. How different would your life be if you turned down his offer. His proposition of love. 

Closing your laptop and kicking the book stack back onto the floor, you stand and make your way into the bathroom. The tiles gleam bright white in the light of the ceiling mounted light bulb far above you. For some reason the bathroom has the tallest ceiling, making it impossible for you to change the lightbulb. You have to stand on tippy toe, while on the counter, to even touch the light bulb. The fact makes you wince. You aren’t _that_ short, a solid 5’4”. Plenty of people are 5’4”. It’s _totally_ _normal._

You turn the shower on and begin the washing process. The water is hot on your skin, leaving bright red spots along your back and neck. The shower door fogs over as time goes on, steam rising in the air. Eventually, you step out of the shower, drying off before wrapping your hair in the towel. Cold air bites your skin as you dress in a loose short sleeve with your favorite fandom printed across the front. You pull on a pair of light jeans and brush your hair into two braids that came to rest on your shoulders. 

Quickly pushing aside the books you grab your black converse, the only other shoes you own besides your boots, and pull them on, tying them securely on your feet. When going shopping one never knew when an untied shoe could become deadly. You swipe your wallet from your backpack and drop it in your back pocket. Then you clip a necklace containing your key around your neck, tucking it under your shirt in the hopes of hiding it from thieves. Then again, you did put your wallet in your backpocket…… 

Maybe you should get a purse or something at the store. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun beats down on your neck. If you were just a bit paler, you might get a sunburn. Your shoes slap against the pavement, heat coming off in waves that dry your hair almost instantly. In moments you find yourself dehydrated and sweating. You’re glad that the fall is finally coming. It brings with it snow, cold breezes, and graduation. Leaves fall in the mid-afternoon light, casting shadows on the sidewalk. You jump away from cars pulling into the complex. Strolling out an opening beside a large iron gate, you begin the long and torturous walk to the mall, where you can buy food, and hopefully get some clothes that actually fit. What you’re wearing now is all you have besides your pjs and an extremely girly dress that you can put on without suffocating. Looking up you see you’ve made it to the road and, before crossing, you stop to admire the summer-fall area. 

Ebott is a small town, packed together in the shadow of Mt. Ebott,  the city’s namesake. The streets are paved and narrow, the town small enough for you to walk across in 2 hours. There are a bunch of small parks all around town, grass protruding from the ground in large patches and benches inhabiting the area between trees. In spite of low government funding, Ebott is clean and rich with the smell of pine needles, despite there being barely any pine trees. Oaks fill the space instead, losing their leaves only to grow them again just in time for the summer heat wave. Ebott in an American town not too far from the Pacific Ocean, so it gets plenty of rain and heat. Though currently everyone seems to be in a drought. Perhaps the monsters could help? 

If they ever get the chance of course.

No matter what time you’re in, people always seem to hate the monsters. People fear what they do not understand, and fear always seems to lead to hate you suppose, but maybe just this once monsters will get a happy ending. In past times humans have started  hate groups, kidnapping monsters to torture and kill them, all the while spreading rumours about monsterkind, making people fear monsters and sympathize with monster haters. It sickens you how easily people will trust the lies they are fed. It’s even worse to think about the people who feed the lies, lighting a flame under everyone, until eventually they boil over. 

You shudder, your eyes falling to the ground. You navigate the streets from memory alone, eventually reaching the Adipose Shopping Mall, where “Only the greatest shop!”. It’s like Ebott’s version of Walmart or Target, except smaller, cheaper, and there’s only one in town. Still, it’s where everyone does their shopping, from pets to food to building materials, they have it all. Only a few small business stores thrive, and only then because of their location. Most of them reside in the northern part of town, closest to Mt. Ebott and by extension right next to Orandore. They live off the college goers money, and their unwillingness to go across town to Adipose. On the flip side, most living areas are on the southern side, meaning Adipose gets more business from adults and their families. Or in your case, half-starved 22-year-olds that need stuff for a cheap price. It takes you thirty minutes to get there at a running pace. You live on the northern side of town, but there are no good grocery stores over there. The closest thing to a store is an over priced gas station. 

The building itself is a pale brown, large street lights hanging from the sides haphazardly. They are known to fall randomly on unexpecting visitors, but they have very good lawyers, who are willing to do anything for a large paycheck. It’s a surprisingly small building considering it’s a mall, but it’s still one of the biggest buildings in town other than the mayor’s office and Orandore. The glass doors swing as you enter, sealing you inside the oven-cooled nightmare that you try so hard to avoid. 

Navigating the tiled floor with awkward steps, you make your way to your first stop: Donna’s Luscious Dressing Shop. 

You shuffle into the store, steering clear of the large crowds of giggling women holding dresses up to their wiry frames. It makes you uneasy to be in the same room with so many perfect people, you even spot a few cheerleaders you make sure to avoid. No need to talk to them. Pulling a few shirts and pants that look your size, you step away from the pastel pink wall and make your way towards the same colored check-out counter. You wait in line behind to gossipy girls in purple dresses and hazel wigs for what feels like hours before you finally step up to the counter. 

The woman standing there smiles at you warmly, pale pointed face stretching pleasantly inside a forest of wavy red hair. She’s older than you by at least ten years, maybe more, but she has a childish glow to her, as if she’s just done something very exciting. You plop your clothes on the counter as gracefully as you can. She scans them quickly, hands a blur of motion. 

“That’ll be 50 dollars please.” Her British accent catches you off guard. You study her face a bit more as you grab your wallet. Have you really never seen her before? Her face flashes in a scream for a moment in your mind, as you pass her the money. You quickly retract your hand. You try your best to look unaffected, but her scream haunts you. She tilts her head and gives you a confused look, but feeds the cash into the register anyway. She gestures to your wallet still gripped in your hand. “Don’t you have a purse for that? Don’t want it to be stolen do you?” 

You blink at her a moment before shaking your head. She hands you the bag and after sneaking a glance behind you, beckons for you to follow her. You hesitate to follow her. What does she want? Is she really going to rob you in such a public place? The again, she is leading you to the back of the store….

You follow her after mulling it over. What harm could it do to follow her?

She stops at a small rack filled with purses of all shapes, colors, and sizes, smiling proudly at the display while you look on. She studies you for a moment before handing you a tan messenger bag with a single zipper along the top. You take one look at the price before immediately holding it back out to the lady. Does she really expect you to buy this? She smiles at you before pushing it back and whispering, “It’s on the house, an old favorite of mine, but I don’t think it suits anyone but you. Besides, you seem like a nice girl, take it.” Your eyes grow to the size of golf balls at the offer, and you go to refuse when she bustles away, off to help some customer or other, leaving you behind. 

You sling the bag over your left shoulder, putting your wallet away. Moving back to the counter, you see the lady explaining to a peppy young girl she should definitely buy the red not the green, because it totally looks way cuter on her. You tap the lady’s shoulder. She turns and beams at you when she notices you’re wearing the bag. You take a quick glance at her name tag, reading the swirling letters. “Thank you, Donna.” She welcomes you before turning back to the girl, who is now holding up a pair of shorts she seems sure make her look fat. 

Taking long strides, you escape the now crowded shop, looking for a way to get to the grocery area. As you make your way through crowds of screaming toddlers and their parents, you wonder about Donna. She was so kind, so sweet and caring. Before now, you never even knew her, never wondered about her or her shop. You wonder if in another time you could have been friends, maybe even best friends. Now, you simply marvel at her willingness to help a stranger. 

Rose’s Grocery Emporium looms before you, you’re last stop before you can escape this goosebump inducing nightmare. Not that it hasn’t been fun, but you’re already shivering from head to toe. You step into the glass doors that separate you from food. Grabbing a basket and checking your funds you proceed towards the fruits asle. As entertaining as shopping is, you feel yourself spacing out. The tiles knock against your shoes loudly, reverberating off the high ceiling. Walking along the white washed walls you move slowly as the weight in your basket grows heavier. 

After lots of walking, and very little interactions with human beings, you finally make it to the counter where, surprise surprise, every line stretches a mile long. Contemplating your decision carefully, you choose the shortest line,ending up behind a pregnant woman, chatting on about her latest cravings. Just once you’d like to get stuck behind a quiet male, who doesn’t chat on about how he loves broccoli and meat, but can’t eat without  puking his guts out all over his carefully vacuumed carpet. 

You roll your eyes, wishing for the line to move faster. Years have passed by the time you reach the register. The dark skinned, frizzy haired, girl behind the counter waves at you, offering a smile before taking your food and scanning it. Her hands move slowly, in stark contrast with Donna’s quick fingers. Her clumsiness streams inexperience, but you leave her be. You can’t imagine the horror of working at a register. All the social interactions and yelling patrons, angry because ‘can’t you go any faster?’. 

She bags your items, happily smiling without a care in the world. A look at her name tag, “Thank you Bill.” Her smile grows three times wider. You hand her the money you owe, there goes the rest of your spending money. Good thing you saved up, or you may not have been able to pay. 

Bill tells you to come back soon before turning back to the next customer. You walk along, proud of your amount of human interaction. The warm sun hits your face the moment you walk out the convenient door at the front of Rose’s Grocery Emporium. You feel happy to be out in the sun again and have to resist the urge to turn and wave bye to the mall. How many stares would that earn you? 

Making your way through the surprisingly small parking lot, weaving around cars waiting for the perfect spot. One of the benefits of not having a car is you never need to wait for space. Of course, you could never afford a car, let alone all the expenses that come from owning one. Gasoline, car wash, insurance, all of it is too much hassle when everything is in walking distance anyway. 

You make it to the sidewalk when you crash into a wall. Your bags scatter around you in piles. Good thing you hate eggs. The worst that could happen is a bruised apple. Honestly, you aren’t surprised you walked into a wall, you have to be the most unattentive people you know. Odd, since you used to be so perceptive. Shaking your head you go to stand when you are literally swept off your feet be strong arms. Strong, boney arms that crush you, while the owner bursts with apologies. Is the wall saying sorry?

Looking up, you notice it isn’t a wall at all. It’s a tall skeleton man dressed in a bright orange button up shirt and long and dark pants. A belt cinches the waist of the jeans around where you assume his spine is. This sparks a bunch of questions, one being how do they eat? Surely skeletons have to eat something? Where does the food go? 

You have to stop yourself from becoming a questioning mass. First up, you need oxygen. The skeleton has kept you in his crushing grip long enough, and you can feel yourself losing consciousness. 

“D-Do you think you could put me down?” You manage to squeeze out. The large skeleton drops you immediately.

“I’M SORRY HUMAN, I HAD NO IDEA YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE!” The loud voice makes your head spin. You find yourself tripping over your own feet trying to gather your food from it’s resting place on the ground. The skeleton places a gloved hand on your shoulder (he has to lean down to do it) grabbing your bags in one swoop of his large gloved hands. The bright red gloves leave red reflections on his bony forearms. Or, where his forearms would be. 

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS WILLING TO HELP! I AM ONE COOL DUDE!” Ah, so his name is Papyrus. You thank him as he drops the bags into your arms. He looks so happy to help, his face seeming to light up. You can’t help but smile at him. He gives you a happy grin, before looking around you in confusion. “HUMAN, DO YOU NOT HAVE A CAR?”

Oh, did he think everyone has a car? He seems so carefree and innocent you wouldn’t put it past him. “Ah, no. I don’t. I usually walk home.” His smile becomes wider, if that’s possible, the nonexistence muscles working. “HUMAN, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DRIVE YOU HOME?” Coming from anyone else you would probably start running about now, but Papyrus seems like a genuine person. You’re nodding before you can stop yourself, giggling as Papyrus sweeps you up and brings you to his car. You don’t get a good look as he plops you in the passenger's seat, walking around and landing in the driver’s side. For the first time you notice the bags in his hands. Was he shopping to? He carefully drops them in the back before pulling out and driving away. Adipose mall becomes smaller and smaller behind you.

The plush seats suggest the car is expensive, so you keep mostly to yourself. You drive in silence, not even a radio to fill the air. After a few moments Papyrus asks you where you live. You direct him to your comlex and within minutes you’re at the gate. You realise you don’t know the passcode. “Ah, Papyrus. I don’t know the code…”

“THAT IS OKAY HUMAN! I CAN DROP YOU OFF HERE!” 

“Oh, right. Thank you again Papyrus.”

You grab your bags and clamber out of the car. When you notice the outside of his car, your jaw drops to the floor. Papyrus looks at you through the passenger door of a bright red Rolls-Royce. How can he afford such an expensive car? What kind of job is he working, and barely a few days after escaping the Underground? You close the door to try and mask your confusion. It takes a few moments, but eventually your face is the picture of calm. You walk around to the driver’s side and knock (carefully) on the window. Papyrus rolls down the window, belting out a quick, “WHAT IS WRONG HUMAN?” 

“Nothing, just wanted to say thank you again.”

“NO PROBLEM HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS WILLING TO HELP OTHERS! OH, HUMAN, WE SHOULD SWAP NUMBERS!” 

You nod, fumbling for your phone when you realise you don’t have it. You left it in your bag on your way out. You could slap yourself for being so stupid. “Sorry Papyrus I don’t have my phone on me.”

His face falls, making you extremely guilty. Did people pretend to not have their phone to avoid having to talk to him? The thought makes your blood boil. He's such a cute cinnamon roll, how could anyone do that!?! You rush to make things better, “I could put my number in though, give me a text to say it’s you and I’ll add your number!” Immediately his face becomes a bright sunbeam. He hands you his phone (how does he use it with gloves on?) and you add in your number, putting in your name. He glances at it briefly. 

“______, WHAT A NICE NAME!” You smile shyly before waving one last goodbye and heading to your apartment. Today has been a good day. Hopefully Papyrus will call you soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me someone got all the references I dropped here? As always feedback is appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	7. Saria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You text Papyrus and his bro. You have a dream. Saria haunts you still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't call any of the numbers here! I don't know the people, so please don't call them!!!!! (If they even are someone's phone number) I chose random numbers.

You stare at the screen of your phone. It sits in it’s small black case, waiting in anticipation. Your knuckles have turned white from gripping it too tightly. Maybe you’re being weird about it, but it’s been to long since you had a friend. Wow, when did Papyrus go from a kind stranger to a friend? Sure, he’s nice, but you barely know him. Is it such a good idea to put so much trust in him? What if he gets to know you and doesn’t like who you are? He seems nice enough, but everyone learns that you have social issues. People always leave. Always. They always betray you, you give them your heart and they rip it to shreds. He ripped it to shreds. Took your heart, your life, your trust, and held it tight. Then he took it all from you, hurt you in ways no one has the right to. He took something from you that you can never take back. But you got back up. After years of being broken, you got over it. You did. You _did._

Your phone buzzes, causing you to jump into the air. Landing on the ground next to your bed, you try not to drop your phone. You open it to find a text from an unknown number. Fingers trembling from anticipation you open it to find a cryptic message. Odd, you could have sworn you told Papyrus to tell you it was him.

 

_805-097-3257 _

‘sup, kiddo? u bonely?

 

You only cringe a little at the use of the letter ‘u’ in place of the word. You contemplate answering when your phone buzzes again, this time from a different number than before.

 

_805-098-4783 _

HELLO HUMAN! IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!

 

It's odd and also comforting to know that Papyrus will be loud no matter what. You text him back quickly.

 

_805-XXX-XXXX _

Hi, Papyrus! It’s me!

 

You quickly type in a name for him, saving the number. Your phone buzzes again seconds afterward.

 

_The Great Papyrus _

AH, I AM GLAD THIS NUMBER IS CORRECT! ALSO, MY BROTHER HAS YOUR NUMBER. HE WILL PROBABLY TELL YOU SOME TERRIBLE PUN, SO BE PREPARED  :(

 

    You giggle at the face he left. So, the number from earlier must be his brother. You slap yourself for not seeing the pun. His brother is a skeleton right? Your mind wanders to Sans. Could he be Papyrus’ brother? Maybe there are other skeletons? But then why would you never have seen one before? You decide to text Papyrus before contacting his brother.

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

    I think he texted me. I’ll make sure.

 

    _The Great Papyrus_

    OKAY HUMAN! I AM GOING TO MAKE SPAGHETTI!!!!!

 

    You have to stifle a laugh. You could hear the intensity and love for spaghetti through the phone. Imagining his face, you can’t help but laugh openly as you pull up the brother’s number and form a text.

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

    Hello? Is this Papyrus’ brother?

 

    _805-097-3257_

    why, yes. this be he. who’re u?

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

    I’m _____. I met your brother today at the mall.

 

    _805-097-3257_

    cool, well i’m sans the skeleton.

 

    So he is Sans! You can barely contain your excitement. You’re doing so good this time! An uncharacteristic wave of pride sweeps through at meeting so many people. First Sans and that kid, then Donna, then Bill, and now Papyrus! You’re on a roll and you don’t want to stop. You forgot how awesome it felt to know people.

    Getting out there and meeting people was always hard for you, and now you’re making friends! Well, meeting people that could become friends. You still don’t know why you’re so comfortable with them. Is it because they have been nothing but friendly? Humans have had twenty-two years to give themselves a bad reputation, but monsters have had a total of two and half days to give you an impression and so far all monsters you’ve met have been friendly and charming. Well, this time they’ve had two and a half days.

    You save Sans’ number before telling him you’ve met before.

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

    Nice to meet you again Sans! We met at the Nice Cream stand! :)

 

    _Sansy _

    oh, ur the human tha’ helped vulcan. welp, nice to see ur the one makin’ my bro happy. he seems happy to have met u. keeps sayin’ u should come over sometime. u could try is’ indescribable spaghetti.

 

    You blink at the confession. Papyrus was happy to meet you? And he wanted to meet up again? Wow, you never thought you would ever make friends that quickly. The only other person you ever managed to bond with quicker was him, and he hurt you more than anyone else. Could you really trust them? It seemed a bit too late for regrets, so you figure why not? How bad could it be?

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

    That sounds awesome. I’ll ask him sometime. If you’ll have me?

 

    You’re sitting on pins and needles while you wait. It takes a good five hours (minutes) for him to respond. You’re biting your lip the whole time, anxiety poking at you like crazy. You have to lick the blood welling on your lip a few times. Who knew you would ever hang on the edge of your seat for a text from a skeleton you barely knew?

 

    _Sansy_

    paps says he’d love ta have ya over. we’re gatherin’ together on sunday. pap said you could come to our house then.

 

    So soon? Well, no work or school that day, so you figure why not? You’ve gone this far, you can get farther. After a quick discussion with your calendar (you had nothing planned Sunday) you texted Sans back.

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

Yeah, I’ll see you then! Where do you live?

 

    _Sansy_

    paps says he knows ur address. says it’s too far ta walk so he’ll pick ya up. around noon-ish.

 

    Well, okay then. Papyrus is too sweet. You’re afraid he may be forming a crush on you. You like the guy, he’s sweet, but honestly he doesn’t seem like someone you would feel any affection other than sisterly affection for. Hopefully you’re wrong and just being paranoid.

 

    _805-XXX-XXXX _

Ok. Look forward to seeing you two again!

 

    _Sansy _

    yeah….us two.

 

    The way he typed it makes you worry, but honestly you can't make yourself care for long. You just made two friends that have invited you over for dinner. That’s more social work than you’ve done in hundreds of past restarts. More than you ever bothered to try and do.

    Setting down your phone, you lay in bed, pressing against the messily made sheets. You lay there for several minutes before getting up. You put the food away awhile ago, so you reach into a random cabinet, selecting a package of ramen. Pulling out a pot, you set the water out to boil. It takes a bit, but eventually you find yourself wading through books, a burning hot bowl resting in you hands. Sitting carefully on the couch, you begin to eat. It feels good to eat food, not just extremely sugary cereal. It burns as it goes down, reminding you of the fire that always seems to haunt you. When you meet will you have to be around fire? Sure, you did well around the Vulcan, but then you were distracted. Will you be able to get through a day with the skeletons?

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    _The world around you is a sea of beautiful golden brown. You can feel the wind on your face. Behind you Adrian plays with the ball mom and dad got him for his last birthday. He turns 14 soon. You tuned 12 in September, your parents showering you in kisses and gifts, and you brother promising to show you the speacial place he always goes with his friends. Now, months later in the July heat Adrian is finally going to take you there. Without the weight of his friend’s stares, you are free to joke as much as you like. You tease relentlessly about a girl Adrian swears he isn’t in love with. The looks he always throws her argue otherwise. For some reason you feel sad. As though Adrian will never get to tell her how he feels. The sadness fades when finally, running through the fields of white wheat ripe for the taking, he approaches. He takes your hand, pulling you towards the woods right beside your field. Mom and dad work so hard to keep the wheat farm alive, tending to the acres of field everyday. There they are, specks of red and green against the bright white. Other dots join them in the wide expanse, checking to see if the grain is ready. It should be soon. Your red painted house waves in the distance, the heat making your eyesight waver. You wave back with your free hand, earning a laugh from Adrian. You put your hand down, turning your back on ma, dad, and their helpful workers._

_Struggling to keep up with Adrian’s quick pace, you soon find yourself panting. Your ever attentive brother notices and slows down, joking about how you should run more. Leaning down, your raven black hair hangs down your shoulders. You’re growing it out so you can do it in intricate braids when you’re older. The necklace around your neck swings like a pendalum, back and forth. Brushing particles of grain from your blue shirt and matching shorts, you take Adrian’s hand again, ready to continue. You’re determined to make it before you have to come back for dinner. Mom and dad know you’re out here with Adrian, so they won’t worry. The two of you know this farm like the back of your hand. You could navigate it in near darkness._

_You can’t say the same for the woods. They loom high over you, making a forest canopy that blocks out the midafternoon sun. Adrian and his teasing friends are the only ones who frequent the woods. You’re pretty sure mom and dad used to play there as kids too, but you haven’t been able to get confirmation from them. You’d never been inside the woods before. Your parents forbade it, and grandmother told stories about children going missing there. They don’t call it the Lost Woods without reason. Grandmother said that when children go missing they become a Stalfos. You don’t know what it is, but it scared you half to death when you heard the story._

_When you finally make it to the woods, you allow Adrian to pull you forward. Your first step into the woods scares you, and for a moment you hesitate to allow Adrian to drag you in. The darkness looms around you, calling out for you to join it. Why are you so hesitant to listen? It is the Stalfos rumour? Adrian stops in front of you. Ever the caring brother, he studies you. You were always an open book to him, though to others you appear closed off and mean. “Are you okay?” His words take you away from the cruel words of frightened children and bring you by his side. You_ will _make it to the area. You have to prove you can do it. So you give him a nod, pulling his arm behind you as you begin to slowly step into the woods._

_The green is almost too much. It overwhelms you, but you take it in stride. You have to show you’re ready, or Adrian will never bring you back. Aware of the sun, rapidly making it’s way across the sky, you forge on, soaking in the dimly lit area._

_Adrian takes the lead after allowing you to take in the long, knarled trees and thick undergrowth. How can a canopy that allows so little light have such lushious grass and bushes? You push the thought aside as he takes you through the woods, jumping over fallen tree trunks and ducking under low growing branches. You try to follow as best you can, crying out quietly whenever you hit a peice of foliage with an edge. Your necklace thumps against your chest heavily, driving air from your lungs. Adrian, usually so focused on your safety, doesn’t bat an eye. Either he doesn’t hear you, or is too focused on your direction to follow. The route he takes seems carefully planned out, and every once in a while he stops and takes in the area, as though searching for something. When he finds it, he continues on at a swift pace, until finally you make it._

_ he water of the lake is crystal clear, allowing you to see the beautiful fish inside. They appear to glow brilliant shades of green and blue, gliding under the surface of the water with a grace you could never show. Despite the lack of light, the surface sparkles, making you squint. While trying to get the sun from your eyes, you notice a waterfall, water cascading from the river up on a slope you didn’t notice.The bushes hide the trail well, but you can still see the boot prints of eager teenagers. Adrian and his friends must have explored this place relentlessly. Before letting go of your hand, Adrian leads you to the waterfall. Silently he shows you the cave tucked behind. It reaches deep into the hill and is crowded with comic books and sports equipment. You can only recognize a few footballs, the rest is foreign to you. A few foam swords and shields rest in a corner, while old milk crates with pillows taped onto them make for seats. You stare in awe while Adrian let's go of your hand and grabs a stick looking thing from the pile of sports things. He weighs it in his hands, humming an odd tune. It’s light and carefree, reminding you of him and his friends. It’s fast paced and fun and you find yourself taking up the tune as well. It’s fairly simple to learn. _

_You pull on the necklace you’re wearing. It’s contents kept knocking on you all the way here, catching branches and causing quite a ruckus. Gingerly holding it to your mouth you blow, poisitioning your fingers over the holes in imitation of the tune. Pretty soon you have the song down, adding your own flaires here and there. Beside you Adrian laughs and dances, occasionally swinging a foam sword around. Sooner than you would like, you find yourself tired and out of breath. You sit dissapointedly on a chair, breathing evenly to try and catch your breath._

_“Don’t feel bad sis, your playing was lovely.” Adrian picks a seat next to you, setting an arm on yours. You smile at him, tugging at the string that ties the instrument to your neck._

_Your ocarina._

_The painted blue surface fits perfectly in your small hands. It’s just big enough that it will probably sit fit in your hands as an adult, but you can still hold it comfortably now. Adrian is right, and you know it. You always had a knack for hearing notes and being able to replay them perfectly. Dad says you have perfect pitch, but you think you just love music. It became a habit to repeat songs you heard, playing them on the ocarina and occasionally writing them down. This is definetley one for you to write down._

_Adrian pats your shoulder to grab your attention. You look at him, and seeing his grim face you turn to face him fully. He takes your shoulders in his hands, looking you in the eye. “I want you to promise me you will never come here on you're own.” His words ring inside you. You go to argue, but he steam rolls on, “Sis, this place can be dangerous. There are mages here that would kill for a visit from an innocent girl like you. They take advantage of you. Control you. Promise you won’t leave my side while here. Please.” His pleading tone makes your heart soften. You don’t think you’d be able to come here without him anyway. He smiles and realses you, standing and grabbing the sports stick from before. “I’m going to wash my hockey stick in the river, wait for me okay?”_

_You nod, and he leaves through the entrance you came through. You can hear his footfalls along the ceiling. Eventually they stop and you assume he stopped to clean his stick. You twiddle your fingers, eventually settling on practicing your finger movements on the ocarina. You got it for your 12th birthday. Ever since you’ve been all over it. The jaunty tune from before rings in your head until you could swear it’s in the air. And then it is. It floats happily in the wind, drawing you in like a moth to the flame. You find your feet moving you out of the cave and down past the cave where you think you first saw the place. You don't seem to worry about how the darkness closes in. Soon you've walked far enough in to never find your way back._

_You wonder how long you’ve been gone. Maybe you sould head back? Adrian’s warning rings in your head, but you find yourself brushing it away. The wind picks it up and takes it far away. All fear gone, you follow the sound away from the lake and into the woods. The trees seem to part for you, allowing you to pass unhindered. The trance you’re in fogs your mind, keeping you from seeing the staring eyes of the woods. Now that you’re alone the eyes come out to see, wanting to watch the little girl walking into the perfectly made trap._

\-----------------------------------------

Waking from the dream in a cold sweat you check the time. It’s barely three. Might as well get up from bed. The dream you had sweeps in your mind and you find yourself leafing through the over crowded bookshelf. You push aside book after cramped book, searching for the one that will remind you most of your childhood. Titles old and new flash by, giving you an odd sort of nostalgia. You're sure a few of them were at your old house, before it burned down. You can’t shake the feeling you need to do this. You have to figure this out. Why were you lured into that witches lair? You often find yourself speculating that if you had never heard the song your family would still be alive. Adrian could have confessed to the girl he loved.

You find the notebook shoved in the corner of the top shelf. Pulling it down with as much force as you can, you flip through the pages. A few are drafts for different songs, others fun tunes you heard in town. The last on is on a page stained with tear drops and scorch marks. You can feel your eyes watering, but you forge on, past your wavering signature, signing the song that has haunted you for ages. The notes look familiar. You find your fingers reaching for a necklace that’s no longer there. Forcing your hand from your neck, you trace instead the name that has hauted your dreams. You named the song after the mage that tricked you.

Running your fingers along the crinkling page you read the name that you curse to this day. The name of that childish song that lead to a childish mistake.

 

Saria’s Song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything against Saria, I just thought about the Lost Woods and what if Saria was a sage that lured children in and turned them into Stalfos? Just a though. Besides, it isn't canon so don't cry.  
> Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	8. Coffee Shop in the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to work! You get a special visitor and have a terrible dream. What did it mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short. Sorry it's bad. Sorry.

Dressed in a pair of your new clothes and new bag slung over your shoulder, you begin the walk towards you job. You keep a slow pace along the sidewalk watching leaves fly in the wind. A few trash bags float in invisible spirals along the heated sidewalk. The sun is already nearing the top of the sky, so you pick up the pace. You can’t be late  _ again.  _ Leaves stir in your wake as you round a few more corners, finally coming to a stop at your part-time job.

Ruto’s Coffee Place stands before you, the only building you know that is painted only in different shades of blue. The dark blue door chimes as you step inside. Today’s theme is Under The Sea, so mermaids and fish rule the walls that are usually painfully blank. You breeze past the decorations, not bothering to admire the hard work put into making every cardboard cut-out. You move behind the counter, mechanically putting your bag underneath the counter and clocking in. 

You rub at your eyes tiredly. After finding your old notebook last night, you sat on the floor, leaning on the side of your bed. There you sat for hours, just thinking. Thinking about that day. You must have dozed off at some point because suddenly you had jerked awake, the window by the head of your bed bleeding sunlight onto your head. Blinking blurrily you had checked the time to see it was already 10 a.m. Scrambling to your feet you dressed quickly and ate even quicker. Stuffing your wallet, keys, and phone into your bag, you put it over your shoulder and began to walk. It took you nearly thirty minutes to get to the street your work was on. In the near-afternoon light it looked huge. From the inside it looks even bigger.  _ Bigger on the inside…. _ You think to yourself, leaning on the counter. 

Tables draped in blue and white lay spread across the wood flooring. Large paper bubbles hang from the ceiling, occasionally swaying in the AC’s icy wind. It always seems to be cold in here. You rub your arms quickly, elbows rubbing against the hard stone counter. You rub so fiercely that you nearly bump your hand into the glass display case to the right of the register. It displays cakes, muffins, and acts as a cooler for multiple drinks. To the left stands the coffee equipment. Set into the wall on the left is the door into the break room. It has a shiny silver plaque that reads EMPLOYEES ONLY in bold black letters. Off the the right is the door to the manager’s office. You shudder to think of her. Ruto stands at 7’ 2” in flats and is always dressed in a business suit. She is the very definition of scary. 

Speak of the devil. The door opens and you whip your head away, lest you be caught staring. A few people are sitting at the tables, eating, drinking, or enjoying the free wifi. You look out intently at them, doing your best not to seem to nervous. You can hear the click of her heels on the ground. If you remember correctly she’s a solid 7’ 5” in them. Christ, this is going to be horrible. It doesn’t matter how many times you see her, Ruto still gives you chills. The clicking continues, eventually stopping in front of you. Blond hair pulled into a tight bun and pale skin stretched across a middle aged face. A dark blue pencil skirt, white button up, and dark blue long sleeved jacket. Small rounded spectacles that hang from her neck by a beaded chain. You’re trapped in her shadow, a tiny speck beneath a mountain. Ruto Zora, manager of Ruto’s Coffee Place. She stares down at you with a look of disdain that only she can pull. You can feel the sweat running down your forehead as she glares holes through your skull with her piercing blue eyes. The sharp turn of her nose and squinting eyes make her look like a hawk. You have to place a hand on your arm to keep yourself from rubbing your own gently sloping nose. Everything about Ruto is sharp and precise. It’s scary how graceful she can be. Especially in that skirt. It’s so tight looking. You have to tilt your head up to even see her chin. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t said anything. She just stand there, looking at you with deep disappointment. 

You can’t help but review your week. Have you done anything this time to upset her? The most you remember from the past week is going to school and avoiding sleep. Did you mess up this time? You tug at the neck of your t-shirt. Your t-shirt. 

“Where is your uniform Ms._____, or are you exempt from the rules?” Ruto’s voice reminds you of the Red Queen’s from  _ Alice in Wonderland.  _ Imperial, commanding, final. She gives you her famous ‘I’m waiting’ look and you struggle to come up with an excuse. Where did you put your uniform? Did you get rid of it? How could you forget to put on your work clothes??

“A-Ah, you see ma’am. I-I, uh, lost i-it in the wash?” Your voice warbles and stutters and your eyes dart from side to side wildly. No matter how many times you’ve lived, you still can’t seem to pull off a decent lie in front of Ruto. Maybe it’s her eyes, those bright blue eyes, that kill you every time. Ruto gives you a hard stare before pointing a crooked finger at the break room. “There’s a spare uniform in the break room. Change before I am forced to show you out for the day.” Her voice is cold as the room around her. You dart away before she can say anything more. 

The inside of the break room is composed of a coffee table, a ratty sofa, and a telephone. A few ceiling mounted lights illuminate the hard wooden floorboards. The place is nearly spotless despite the obviously second-hand furniture. Set on the brown wood coffee table is the uniform Ruto mentioned. It’s a white long sleeved blouse with an empty name tag, a brown apron, and a pair of black pants. Luckily for you, you wore black pants, so you won’t have to use the ones on the table. You change quickly, not wanting to find out what would happen if you took too long. You don’t worry about the empty name tag or the odd shadow cast on the blank walls. Instead you focus on folding up your shirt and stuffing it under the counter outside. 

Back in the over air conditioned room you notice that Ruto is gone. In her place is a small line of impatient customers. Rushing over and blindly apologizing to the angry man in the front. He yells at you for a solid minute before giving in and placing his order. You begin making coffees and handing over pastries. Today is going to be a long day. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After serving the last customer in the line of waiting people, you lean on your elbows staring blankly outside. By now the sun has made it’s way to the top of the sky, casting short shadows on everything under it. The wind has picked up, blowing leaves and trash around the now busy streets. Well, as busy as it can become in a small town. The occasional car drives by, stopping at the intersection a bit to the right of the coffee shop. Across the street is a small park littered with dogs and their owners. With fall coming up fast, people were enjoying their last warm moments. As you watch the laughing faces, a girl with dirty blonde hair in a bright pink shirt and dark jeans walks in. You sit up and give them a warm welcome, inwardly wincing at the cheesy greeting. She waves back before launching into a complicated series of orders. A Double Ristretto Venti Half-Soy Nonfat Decaf Organic Chocolate Brownie Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Gingerbread Frappuccino Extra Hot With Foam Whipped Cream Upside Down Double Blended, One Sweet'N Low and One Nutrasweet, and Ice. You didn’t even know someone could order that. 

She slowly walks you through preparing it. You do your best not to explode at her. Why couldn’t she just order something normal? Was the taste of the coffee worth really worth it????

Once you’ve finally stumbled your way through direction after tedious direction, you hand her the coffee. Her whole face practically lights up when she tastes it. You’ve never really understood why people like coffee so much, but you have to admit that after all that effort it must be rewarding to drink. She pays you what she owes, even dropping a $5 in the tip jar by the register. You give her a genuine smile that she returns. You watch her cross the street. While you were fulfilling her order a small crowd had gathered in the park. They waved signs and fisting in the air. When the door opened and the lady left you heard their chants. 

“Monsters belong in the mountain, send them back!” The cries echo in your head over and over. The lady who tipped you walks over and joins them. A sickening feeling grows in your stomach as you watch her high five one of the men in the group. 

As the day goes on their forces grow larger, scarves, shorts, and hats joining together in a large mass. They shout at people in the street as they drive by. How could they have already made signs? Monsters have been free for what amounts to about four days. You feel sick knowing that in some way, you’re just like them. You’re human. You sigh openly, barely hearing the chime of the door opening. A few people sat at tables whisper intently to each other. Your eyes remain fixed on the pink shirt girl. How could someone so nice be so cruel? Was this really what the human race had come to? A voice as smooth as silk breaks into your world. 

“A shame isn’t it?” You jolt up, staring into the chocolate brown eyes of what looks like a giant goat. The face looking down on you looks like a goat’s, yet somehow seems humanoid. White fur and horns and ears, yet walking on two legs, and using paws to brush one ear away from a face with deep brown eyes and a mouth curved into a soft smile. The woman is dressed in a royal purple shirt and light blue jeans. She looks at you as though she is waiting for an answer. You blink at her for a second before remembering her question. “Oh, yeah. It’s too bad some people can’t seem to get it through their thick skulls that monsters are people too.” You cross your arms as you say this, eyes squinting at the protesters across the street. 

The goat woman laughs. It sounds like bells ringing in a soft wind. You can’t help but giggle to. 

“I am Toriel. Who might you be?”

“______. Nice to meet you Toriel. How are you?”

She pauses to consider your question, one hand coming up to her cheek. She scratches at it as she thinks, looking away from you. You can’t believe she’s putting so much thought into the question. Most people just say ‘fine’ and move on. She finally seems to come up with an adequate answer to share. “Well, moving is coming along fine. We have used our magic to speed up the construction process. Almost every monster now has a home or is being built one. Most of us just moved into pre-existing houses, but a few wanted to build new ones. My family and I moved into a vacant house a few blocks from here. The town is nice, and most businesses don’t mind us coming in as long as we don’t cause trouble. Honestly, things are moving along splendidly. How are you?”

You almost say ‘fine’, but you know that isn’t true. You’re incredibly lonely, live in a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford, and have been living the same two weeks for what feels like centuries. You are the opposite of fine. You can’t tell Toriel obviously, she’d think you were crazy. Instead you form the best answer you can. 

“I’m doing okay. I haven’t been fired so that’s a plus. I have an apartment to live in, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I go to Orandore U on a scholarship and live a happy life. All-in-all, I’d say life is going great.” You do your best to sound upbeat. Toriel seems to buy your ‘I’m happy with life’ story. She nods along and smiles good naturedly. You talk for ages, sometimes just sitting in happy silence. 

It seems like only minutes later she’s leaving, your numbers swapped. You wave at her happily. Your day just got a lot better.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your day just got a lot worse. Lauren, the lady who was supposed to take over for you hasn’t shown up. Her shift started half an hour ago. If she doesn’t hurry, you’ll be late. You already know the lesson, but you can’t just not show up. You don’t care how laid back Mr. Holloway is, he’ll kill you if you’re late. 

The sun’s descent across the sky seems to speed up while you wait. You’re contemplating bailing when you remember you’re still wearing the spare uniform. Grabbing your shirt from under the counter you sneak into the break room on silent feet. Your converse stay quiet on the wood despite their habit of squeaking at the worst possible time. You open the door quietly. It creaks loudly, making you flinch back. Moving into the room, you close the door with a click and begin to take off your blouse and apron. Tossing the apron down, you’re just about to remove the blouse when you hear a creaking noise. You notice a shadow on the wall move and nearly shriek. The object shushes you loudly. Brown frizzy hair accompanied by an olive complexion rises from behind the couch. Green eyes, glazed over by obvious drunkenness meet yours. A rumpled white blouse and black jeans take small, stumbling steps toward you. 

Lauren waves at you, an empty bottle of whisky hanging in her spare hand. She looks like a mess, heavy make-up smeared everywhere. “Heeeeeeey, what’s up? I-I like ur haaaair. It’s soooo preeeeeety.” 

You back away in disgust when she tries to give you a hug. A hand reaches up to your hastily braided hair, self-consciously trying to smooth it out. Lauren looks disappointed at not getting a hug, but shrugs it off a moment later, seemingly not caring anymore. 

“Have you been drinking?” You ask her. Her breath smells of alcohol and the empty bottle screams ‘I’ve been drinking’, but you can’t think of anything else to say. Lauren nods an affirmative, swaying with the force of the nods. Thinking of how you changed earlier a more disturbing thought pops into your head. “How long have you been here?” 

“Oooooooh, um. I dunnooooh. Since the suuuun said hellll-oh?” She waves the bottle as she talks, eventually running off into a stream of garbled words and phrases. Since the sun said hello? Does she mean since dawn? You shudder at the thought of her in here while you changed shirts. You shake your head to try and will away the thought. “Let’s get you to Ruto.”

You pull a protesting Lauren through the door. By the time you’ve made it to Ruto’s office, multiple customers have begun to stare. As if sensing the situation, Ruto opens the door. She surveys the scene before her eyes land on you. Her stare feels accusatory, somehow saying ‘This is your fault isn’t it?’. 

“S’not my fault,” You mutter, pushing a now silent Lauren in front of you, “She’s been drinking.” Ruto looks at Lauren for a moment before pulling her into the room behind her. Then, back straight and eyes as cold as ever she replies, “Thank you. You may leave now, I will have a talk with Lauren.” She begins to close the door. Your mind screams to go with it, but you need to get to school. Wedging your toe in between the door, you muster up your courage.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could leave. I have a class at Orandore and-” The door opens wide, Ruto’s expression seeming to suck the air from your lungs. Your voice putters off and you’re left staring at the floor. 

“Go,” You look up suddenly, surprised at the sudden tiredness in Ruto’s voice, “I’ll cover for you. Just, come back tomorrow bright and early. Hopefully Lauren won’t be such a mess then.” Her face wears an uncharacteristic smile. You can only nod, rushing back to the break room to change. 

A few short minutes later you’re rushing out the door. You take off at a run, pushing people out of your way. They shout at you angrily, but you don’t listen. The protester’s yelling fuels you, giving you the energy to sprint all the way to Orandore. You make it just in time to avoid a lecture from Mr. Holloway. You settle into a desk, almost immediately zoning out. You answer questions mechanically without breaking from your trance. You think of nothing while you sit. You just stare into space. Your early start to the day and lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. Your mind turns to mush and your eyes begin to droop. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_ Your eyes open to the sound of laughter. The blonde boy with the green eyes holds a stone in each hand, throwing one up and catching it again. The sound of the stone hitting his skin is rhythmic, almost soothing. Almost. _

_ It doesn’t help that you appear to be tied up. You struggle, but the rope holds tight, cutting into your skin. You try to reason with the boy, but he only laughs. The laughter spreads in the wind, ringing in your ears and bouncing in your brain. You cry out at the sound. Your small hands struggle with the rope, legs kicking out in an attempt to escape. For a moment the boy is silent, then he realises that you can’t break free. His laughter returns tenfold, making your ears literally bleed.  _

_ The boy stops tossing the stone up, instead hefting it and throwing it at you. It misses your ear by inches, landing in the wheat fields behind you. He throws again, this time hitting your leg. You can feel the bruise forming just below your kneecap. You hiss in pain, trying not to give the kid another reason to laugh. He picks up another heavy looking rock from the dusty ground, hurling it at your stomach. On impact the air leaves your lungs. You can’t muster the strength to scream in pain.  _

_ You struggle even harder, blood welling up on your arms as the rope cuts your skin. The boy laughs one last time before throwing his final rock. It soars in the air for a moment before colliding with your head.  _

_ The whole world turns black.  _

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Your head hits the desk in front of you, causing a loud thump to be heard. A few heads turn in your direction, one dark haired boy even giggled. You turn your head down, hoping to block out his insistent giggling. The dream still rings in your head. Luckily for you, Mr. Holloway is turned away, giving a speech you’ve heard a thousand times. 

Finally class is over, allowing you to escape into the now dark air. You sprint home, hoping to make it before the sun leaves the sky completely. You open the door to your home the moment the sun disappears. Locking yourself in, you proceed to collapse on the couch. There you stay, contemplating your nightmare. What did it mean? It wasn’t a memory. So what was it? Some people say that dreams mean something. What did this mean?

 

What did this mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question: What is the most ridiculous coffee order you've ever made?
> 
> Feed back is appreciated! Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	9. Sorry...

I can't update at all this week or next week cause I'm on vacation. I'm really sorry, hate me all you want, but this is summer. Summer is for visiting relatives. I'm in Minnesota right now visiting family, and I can't do shit for this fiction right now. I'm really, really, sorry. Really. Updates will be back not today, not next Friday, but the Friday after that. 

 

Until then!

 

Thanks for Reading!

 

~ <3


	10. Imagine the PAP-ibillities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go NOT according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And now here is your chapter that I said I would have today.

_ The Great Papyrus _

HUMAN! I AM EXCITED FOR TOMORROW!

 

_ You _

Hah, yeah. Me too!

 

_ The Great Papyrus _

I CANNOT SEEM TO STOP THINKING ABOUT IT! OH HOW I WISH THE DAYS WOULD GO FASTER!

 

_ You _

Well, I have to go Papyrus. My shift is almost over and I have to get to school.

 

_ The Great Papyrus _

OF COURSE, HUMAN! I WILL SEE YOU SUNDAY!

 

_ You _

Yeah! Bye Papyrus!

 

Phone in hand, you make a dash for the break room. After checking for drunk employees, you change from your uniform to a grey turtle neck, dark colored jeans, and your usual black converse. As you are exiting the break room, you notice a sober Lauren walking through the door. You take in her now righted make-up, neatly done hair, and apologetic look. 

“Hey, sorry for getting drunk yesterday. I’m sure I gave you quite the scare..” Lauren waves as she approaches, setting her bag on the counter. You wave back at her. Your bag is already slung over your shoulder and you are ready to make a break for Orandore. You have a good thirty minutes before your class begins, but you would like to leave now. It would be nice to have a slow, scenic walk before winter settles in. 

“It’s okay, just try not to do that again.” You try to sound patient, but you honestly think that she should have been fired. You swear, Lauren gets away with everything here. Once she was late, dressed in a bright yellow dress. You were running late for your class and wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Instead of switching for hr shift, Lauren ordered a coffee and a muffin, then proceeding to lean on the counter as she ate. Ruto walked in as you were going to the break room to change. Instead of getting mad at Lauren for being late, she scolded you for sneaking off. She even docked some of your pay, allowing Lauren to work as normal. When you finally got to school, you were lectured at not only by Mr. Holloway, but Marcia as well. You will never really forgive Lauren for that. That wasn’t even the first instance of Ruto letting Lauren off easy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Ruto had a soft spot for Lauren. 

You shake your head, giggling softly to yourself. Ruto having a soft spot for anyone seemed impossible. You wave a last goodbye to Lauren, pushing the door open. 

The warm air hits your face, softly whipping your hair around. Leaves float past you in the soft breeze, and the sound of children laughing plays in the air. The sun is nearing the other side of the sky, so you pick up your pace slightly. Your head turned down, you don’t notice the rushing body in front of you until it’s too late. 

The feeling of smashing into a metal box is not unlike the feeling of crashing into the person now towering over you. When you collide, you bounce backwards. The sound of metal denting rings out when the figure in front of you hits the ground. You’re on your feet in an instant, helping the figure up. You notice sweeping black and pink hair over one eye, and grey metal looking skin before the person tilts their head down, their brown hat covering their face. They thank you, proceeding to speed walk as quickly as possible back the way you came, trench coat seeping behind them like a superhero cloak. 

“You're welcome!” You shout at the stranger as they leave. They either don’t hear, or don’t care. Feeling dejected and offended, you turn on your heel and continue walking to your school, head turned down once more. Your black converse make thunking noises every time they hit the pavement beneath you. The air is still now, allowing your hair to settle back down again. It’s knotted and tangled now, making you feel self conscious. Even if there is barely anyone around to notice. 

By the time you make it to Orandore U the air has cooled down, making you glad you wore a turtleneck. You make it to class a few minutes early. By the time Mr. Holloway starts his lesson, you’ve already forgotten about the mysterious person in the brown trench coat. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stare at your phone intently. What’s taking so long? Papyrus texted you ten minutes ago saying he would be at your apartment soon. Was his house really so far away that it took ten minutes to drive from his house to yours? What if he just forgot? What if he changed his mind? Would he really leave you hanging?

Maybe he would.

Would he really.

Were you really that horrible?

You stand up from your couch, hoping to shake the thoughts away. For once the sea of books is tamed, now a smaller lake in the entrance to your kitchen. That leaves you room to pace while you contemplate Papyrus’ reasons to not pick you up. 

_ He really seemed to like you when you met, maybe Papyrus was just running late.  _

__ _ Yes that makes sense.  _

__ _ But what if he just didn’t like you. _

__ _ What if he changed his mind? _

__ _ No, that makes no sense. He said he would be here. _

__ _ But what if he lied? _

__ _ No, Papyrus is too sweet to lie. _

__ _ You’ve known him for a day. You accepted his invitation to his house. After knowing him for a day. Maybe he thinks you’re crazy. _

__ _ Am I crazy? _

__ _ Who knows? _

The sound of your phone chiming makes you jump. It’s pulled out of your pocket in a flash. Your hands shake as you pull up your messages, but instead of Papyrus, you see it’s a text from Toriel instead. 

 

_ Toriel _

__ I believe it depends on the weeks, though I don’t think I would. It seems so cruel, to drag everyone around you through the same days over and over. Would you? 

 

It takes you a moment to grasp what she is saying. It’s a response to a question you asked earlier. ‘If you could relive the same two weeks over and over, would you?’ You still can’t believe you asked her that. When you asked you had been thinking only of what she would think if she knew your predicament. The moment it was texted, you wished to take it back. Now that you have a response, you feel yourself relaxing. She didn’t think you were crazy. You decide to text back. 

 

_ You _

__ I wouldn’t either. It would get so tiring to see the same times over and over. 

 

You set your phone down, choosing to lay on the couch instead of continuing to pace the floor. You got a decent amount of sleep last night, but you still feel sleepy. You always feel sleepy, never really awake. 

Just like yesterday. It was Saturday, the only day you work a full day at Ruto’s. The protesters were back, waving their signs in the air. You were beginning to resent them, standing with their signs, demanding the monsters go back underground. How would they like it if they had to live underground for years and years? 

The sound of someone clearing their throat had made you look up from the protesters. A man with a scruffy beard and dark red hair stood before you. He wore a grey shirt under a green jacket and light blue jeans. He reminded you of a lumberjack. You absentmindedly wondered where his axe was. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting sir, what can I getyou?” In your tired state of mind, your words slur a bit. The man gives you a smile, ordering something you can’t remember now. The AC had been working extra hard, making you shiver as you made his coffee. Still in your morning haze, you set down the coffee a little too hard on the counter. A bit of it sloshed over the edge, burning into your hand. “Crap!” You hissed to yourself. The man laughed, seeming to enjoy your pain. You rolled your eyes and gave him a glare. Getting the message, he handed you a few napkins from a nearby stack. You wiped up the burning liquid, trying to keep the mess to a minimum. 

The man helped you, wiping anything that got on the counter. “Hey, that was  a pretty **hot** thing you did there.” The man teased, taking your burned hand in his. He studied it for a bit, memorizing every crevice and piece. Still weak from lack of sleep, you couldn’t take your hand from his. Before you could do anything, he had brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it, eyes never leaving yours.

It might have been romantic if he wasn’t a complete stranger. Instead you had finally managed to whip your hand away. Handing him his coffee. 

“That will be $5.45 sir. Please, get out.” Your voice had shaken while he pulled out his wallet. Along with six dollars, he handed you a slip with a phone number, presumably his. “If you ever need company,” He had said to you, winking one last time before slipping out the door. The moment he was gone, you tore the paper into pieces, throwing the remains into the trash can. You were shaken the rest of the day, jumping whenever a man spoke to you. Even now, body splayed across your couch, you can’t get his face out of your head. 

He reminds you of another man named Nick. He was sweet too. Just like that man. Normal up front. Twisted on the inside. Nick gave you his love, and you gave him your everything. Then he demanded one more thing of you. At first, he was subtle about it, bringing it up. Then, he asked you. Then, he demanded. Then, he took. His face flashes in your mind for a moment. Bright blue eyes and a smiling face framed by a tan and chiseled face. He had a big and muscular build, ready to take on anyone. Nick was the closest to perfect person anyone could ever be. For awhile. He changed and he changed you. Nick took and took and took and broke everything. Everything you had and everything you loved. So why couldn’t you let him go?

Could it have anything to do with your dating history? You weren’t known for dating others. In fact, you haven’t dated since you met Nick. Maybe you had a few close friends, but nothing close to a real relationship. Maybe you needed to get out there and date. Would that take your mind off of everything? But what if everyone was like Nick? What if everyone hurt you like him? You don’t think you could take another blow like that. 

Would the pain be worth getting over Nick? 

Instead of finding an answer, you get a text from Papyrus. You fumble with your phone for a bit, trying to open your texts. When you finally get it open, you nearly sigh in relief. Picking up your bag and smoothing out your long, blue dress, you step outside of your house. You meet Papyrus at the gate to your apartment complex. You turn your phone off as you wave to Papyrus, your last message showing on the screen.

 

_ The Great Papyrus _

__ I HAVE ARRIVED HUMAN! MEET ME AT YOUR GATE! 

 

“HELLO HUMAN! ARE YOU READY TO DEPART?” Papyrus looks at you through the rolled down window of his car, one boney arm resting on the steering wheel, the other resting on the arm of his seat. You nod quickly, stepping around to the passenger and sitting down. 

“How have you been Papyrus?” You ask setting your bag on your lap and pulling your seat belt down. The air conditioning in the car is thankfully off, allowing you to sit in comfort. Papyrus pulls away from the gate, explaining about his latest job at Adipose Mall. You listen intently as he tells of his latest adventures in the supermarket. You even kod along as he tells you about all the new types of pasta he has learned to cook. Without the AC running, you find yourself falling asleep, eyes closing without your consent. A nightmare last night kept you from sleeping properly and now you can feel sleep creeping up on you. 

You fight the urge to sink into the car seat and never resurface. You are sit up and shake your head a bit, trying not to fall asleep. Papyrus notices, much to your dismay.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT HUMAN? DO YOU WISH TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING DIFFERENT?” You feel only a bit bad for making Papyrus worry. Why can’t you just stay awake? 

“It’s alright Papyrus. I’m just sleepy, that’s all.” You give Papyrus your best smile to prove it, hoping to disguise most of your tiredness. 

“THAT IS QUITE ALL RIGHT HUMAN. TAKE A NAP. WE WILL BE AT THE PARTY SHORTLY!” You thank Papyrus and close your eyes and allow yourself to drift off. 

You are nearly asleep when you realise what Papyrus said. 

_ Did he say party?!? _

Before you can ask him, you’re asleep. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ This is bad. Not bad but good. Where are you? Somewhere. This seems to be normal. Every time you close your eyes another image crowds your mind. Sometimes the ashes, sometimes the homes, sometime his face, sometimes their blood. This time, your mind seems to decide to show you the images of the home. The images of their laughing faces. When did kids become so evil? _

__ _ They throw stones at you, pretending you are a terrible witch they must stone to death. You cry when the stones hit. What is this? Why are they hurting you? What did you ever do to them! When the next stone is hurtled you catch it. You don’t know how, but you manage to hit one of your attackers in the arm. The kid screams in pain, turning and running. The other kids seem to lose some of their bravery, some of them following the other kid and fleeing.  The braver ones continue to throw stones at you. On in particular stands out among the rest. His blonde hair sways in a slight wind, green eyes meeting yours. He looks so familiar. Where have you seen him before? The green eyed boy pulls his arm back to throw another stone when another boy with black hair and blue eyes runs up. “Stop hurting her!” He yells, making shooing motions with his hands. He looks to be older than most of the kids, and they scamper away quickly. The green eyed boy looks at you one moment longer before leaving.  _

__ _ The blue eyed boy puts an arm on your shoulder. You flinch, but don’t move for fear of him getting angry. He gives you a soft smile. “Are you okay?” You nod at his words, not really paying attention. Will he hurt you too?  _

__ _ “My names ______. Thanks for saving me.” You murmur to the ground. WIll he hit you if you speak too loud? Is he like Miss April? He smiles at you warmly, not at all like Miss April’s cold stare. You smile back, if only slightly.  _

__ _ “Your welcome for helping, though anyone else would have. I can’t believe those kids, gaining up on you.” You nod at him, not correcting him. No one else would have helped you. You know from experience. He walks you back to your home, sand crunching beneath your shoes. On your way home, you brush past a wooden post. Beside the post is a coil of rope. For some reason you get the shivers as you pass.  _

__ _ When you finally reach your house, the boy goes to leave. As you open the door, he turns back as if remembering something. As you close the door to your temporary home, he calls back to you. _

__ _ “By the way, in answer to your question, my name is Nick.” _

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sit up suddenly, head whipping around wildly. Papyrus is singing along to the song “What’s going on?” by Four Non-Blondes, his head whipping around wildly. Despite the dream you had, you find yourself laughing hysterically. 

“AH, HUMAN, YOU ARE UP!” You continue to laugh, Papyrus Nyehing along with you. You barely notice when Papyrus pulls into a driveway. Only after you’ve wiped the tears from your eyes to you see you’ve pulled up to a house. There are Christmas lights lining the roof, making you giggle. It’s months away from Christmas, but it seems like the type of thing Papyrus would do. The air is filled with a faint music. You wonder if it’s coming from inside. Probably. But if you were just coming over for pasta, why was the music so loud? 

Papyrus goes around the car, opening the door and pulling you out of the car. He drags you toward the two story house quickly, as though he is late for something. “WE ARE LATE FOR THE PARTY! COME ON!” Papyrus pulls harder, dragging you to the tan colored walls surrounding a single white door. Why are you so uneasy?

“What do you mean party?” You ask. Papyrus looks at you funny. 

“DID SANS NOT TELL YOU?”

“Tell me what?” Papyrus opens pulls you up the grey pavement steps, opening the door of his home. The inside is filled with people. From what you can see a ghost, a fish, a dinosaur, and a small skeleton wearing a shit-eating grin. 

“WELCOME TO MY HOME PARTY!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My question to you:  
> "If you could relive the same two weeks over and over would you?"
> 
> As always criticism is appreciated.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~ <3


	11. Partying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short... Sorry.

 

    “Home party?!?” You can feel your anxiety coming on already. What are you supposed to do? Hang with these people you don’t know? Who cares if they’re monster or human? What you care about is what they think. Will they like you? Are they already judging you? What to do? What to do? What to-

    “HUMAN! YOU APPEAR TO BE SWEATING QUITE A LOT? ARE YOU ILL?” Papyrus is quick to grab you in his arms, crying loudly about how sick you must be. From your vantage point, you can just make out a high ceiling and several walls, all colored the same cream color. Papyrus squeezes you a bit too hard. You are briefly reminded of the first time you met. You can feel the life leaving your body as Papyrus continues to squeeze you. _Is this how I die?_ Sure, Papyrus would be devastated, but would it really be that bad? You barely know him and he barely knows you. How long would he grieve, if he did at all? Who would really care? The edges of your vision are turning black. Papyrus is still holding you in his crushing grip.

You take one last breath, ready to embrace the ever-nearing darkness when, to your surprise, a pair of hands takes you from Papyrus’ grip, setting you on the floor instead. Your vision is still blurry and dark, but in the haze, you can just barely make out white fur around two chocolate brown eyes. You gasp as much as you can manage. Is that-?

“Child! are you alright?” Toriel holds you in her arms, carefully moving hair from your face. In all the hugging, your carefully French braided hair had become messy, spreading across your face and plastering against the deep blue long-sleeve you had put on before Papyrus picked you up. Toriel looks dressed for a conference meeting and not a party. Where did she come from?

You think you see Toriel’s hands begin to glow green, but maybe that’s just a hallucination from lack of oxygen. You can see Papyrus Nyooing in the background. Poor innocent Papyrus. Almost immediately you can feel yourself regaining your strength. Whatever Toriel is doing, it seems to be restoring your health. It doesn’t take long for you to stand, and when you do, you remember that Toriel is here. At Papyrus’ house. When did she get here?

“T-Toriel? What are you doing here?” You grab her hand, making sure she really is here with you. If she really is here, then maybe this party won’t be to unbearable. Having a friend in this chaos would be welcome.

“Yes, child, I was just as surprised to see you. I am a friend of Papyrus and Sans, so when Papyrus told me of his party, I could not resist coming. Besides, it has been so long since I have seen everyone together. It is heart-warming. May I ask why you are here?” Toriel prods you in the forehead with her free hand, humming at you. You wonder how long she has known the skeleton brothers. Of course, you haven’t known them long. You’re pretty sure you’ve only met with each of them once, and both times by chance. Once at the Nice Cream stand and once at Adipose Mall.

“I met Sans at a Nice Cream stand and I ran into Papyrus at the mall. Papyrus invited me over, so I came. I don’t really know anyone here.” You shrug to yourself as if it is no big deal, but your eyes plead with her to help you. Toriel nods, seeming to get your message. You sigh in relief. Maybe now you will finally be able to relax.

“HUMAN, I HAD NO IDEA YOU KNEW ASGORE’S CLONE!” Papyrus booms from behind you. You jump at the sound of his voice, still a bit light headed. Your head tilts to one side in question. Who is Asgore and why does he have a clone?

Toriel giggles at Papyrus. “Sorry for not telling you Papyrus, and please, call me Toriel.” So Asgore’s clone is Toriel? How does that make any sense? Does Toriel have a secret twin?

“Wait, who is Asgore?” You question Papyrus and Toriel, looking back and forth between the two. Papyrus gets a confused look on his face, as if everyone should know who Asgore is. Toriel adopts a cold stare. Papyrus is first to speak, glancing every once in a while, at Toriel, who’s expression was gradually becoming colder.

“YOU SEE HUMAN, ASGORE WAS THE KING OF THE UNDERGROUND. HE AND TORIEL WERE MARRIED, BUT THEY SPLIT UP, SEVERING THEIR BOND. I DON’T KNOW WHY THOUGH, THE KING IS SUCH A SOFTIE. HE WOULD NEVER HURT A FLY.” Papyrus looks convinced that this Asgore person is a really nice guy. You don’t feel so sure though. Why would Toriel leave him is Asgore was such a ‘nice guy’?

Toriel’s expression becomes murderous in an instant. Her hand still in yours, she stalks away from a startled Papyrus. When you try to pull away from her, you find her grip is one of steel. You’ll just have to wait for her to calm down. But why does she need to calm down? What did Asgore do that was so terrible?

On your way through the small party, you pass a kitchen, living area, and a mess of monsters you don’t know. You’ll have time to investigate later. For now, you want to know what’s gotten Toriel so angry. What if she needs your help?

When Toriel finally comes to a stop it is at the base of a small staircase leading up to a second floor. The wooden rail is decorated with Christmas lights in blue, green, and red. Odd, Christmas isn’t for months. What is with Papyrus and the Christmas decorations? Toriel sits on one of many carpeted stairs that run along cream colored walls. Sitting heavily next to her, Toriel finally seems to realize she has you trapped with her. She releases your hand, muttering a few small apologies. “I am not feeling well, child, you may move on without me. Meet a few new people.” You must lean in to hear her. You can just barely make out the sounds of her sobbing. Patting her on the shoulder, you ready yourself for whatever may come. Maybe you should look for Sans. He is the one who screwed you over by not telling you that this was a party.

Your stand from your seat on the stairs, allowing your feet to pick a direction. All the while you can feel eyes staring into you. Every time you turn around, however, there is no one paying attention to you. The stairs Toriel sits by are off set in the far corner of the room, directly parallel to the kitchen’s first entrance. The other entrance to the kitchen sits beside the door where Papyrus nearly killed you. To your left sits a living room sort of area, where a small ghost wearing headphones appears to be DJing. The ghost floats near a green couch set parallel to a large TV. A fish in a tank top and pants and a dinosaur in a lab coat hang around the ghost, every once in a while, dancing to the beat. The music is nice, it calms your nerves. You wonder if the ghost mixed it themselves.

 On the couch sits a small orange monster that doesn’t have arms. You absentmindedly wonder how he opens doors. Beside the no-arm monster is a child with short brown hair and a blue and purple striped sweater. You think you’ve seen them before, but you can’t remember from where. Maybe you’ve seen them on the street somewhere? You’ll have to go up and ask them.

 The song playing changes as you shuffle through a doorway that leads to a room full of kitchen supplies, punch bowls, and scattered Popato Chisp bags. Whatever a ‘chisp’ is. Maybe it’s a monster thing. The cleaned white tiles click under your converse, barely heard over the now rising volume of the music. You slide your hand along one of the countertops, happy to find that they are scrubbed clean, presumably by Papyrus. Other than the scattered party trash, the kitchen appears to be your average, every day, spotless kitchen. It still bothers you that anyone would have their kitchen in a state like this, but you can forgive Papyrus this time, it is a party after all. You are the only one in the kitchen. You have no idea where Papyrus or Sans are. Papyrus was left behind at the entrance to his home, so maybe he’s still there. You look out the second entrance to the kitchen. No Papyrus, though there are multiple sets of shoes. You take of your own beloved converse and set them neatly next to a pair of dark blue boots. From what you’ve seen, no one has been wearing shoes. Everyone either has socks, bare feet, or no feet. You feel only slightly bad about that last one.

You make your way back around into the living room. The music and dancing is still going on, this time with one skeleton on the couch and another dancing wildly. You walk up to Papyrus, taking on of his hands in yours and swinging around with him. He is completely off beat and he will occasionally hit the ceiling with one of his wayward arms. While you ‘dance’ with Papyrus, you can feel the fish and dinosaur looking at you. The ghost never takes his eyes from a small speaker that continues to blast music. The small child you thought you’d seen before has stopped talking with no-arms and instead walks up to you and begins to dance. Their short hair swings around as they do. When you finally get a good look at their face, you remember where you’ve seen them. They were with Sans at the Nice Cream stand.

You pull away from an ignorant Papyrus. He continues to dance, not noticing when you kneel by the small child. They look at you with a confused look on their face. For a moment, they remind you of a child you once saw. They had similar hair, but they had crimson red eyes and a red sweater. For a moment, you have the feeling you should fear them. For a moment, you really want to run away and never come back. Then, the moment passes. You consider their small, innocent face.

_How could I ever think this child is the same one from that time?_

“Heya there sport, what’s your name?” You ask them this quietly. They tilt their head at you, confused at what you said. Maybe they can’t hear you over the music? You repeat yourself. This time they hear it, responding with a few hand motions. It’s your turn to tilt your head at them. What are they doing?

The kid continues to try and use hand motions to talk to you. When it becomes obvious you don’t understand, they give up, running over to the small skeleton sleeping on the sofa. They climb onto the couch, standing beside Sans. They shake him on the shoulder, arm, and head. They make faces, wave their arms, and do silly dances. They even try jumping up and down on the couch, causing no-arms to bounce around wildly. No matter what the kid does, Sans refuses to wake up. You can’t tell if he’s faking, or if he sleeps that deeply. The kid begins to slap Sans angrily on the skull. You notice Sans’ smile twitch just slightly. If you hadn’t been looking, you might not have seen it. Your mouth pulls into a smirk. That little faker. Time to teach him a lesson. When the kid sees you coming, they quit slapping Sans, instead plopping heavily onto the couch next to no-arms. You lean on the arm of the couch next to Sans. The kid gives you a thumb up. No-arms looks like he wants to. Sans will pay dearly for messing with these poor cinnamon rolls.

You level your face with Sans skull. He breaths evenly, doing a very good job of fake sleeping. You gather your strength; not sure just how heavy a skeleton is. You briefly wonder if this is a good idea. Would this hurt Sans? You decide that if you don’t want to hurt him, he won’t get hurt. Trying not to make too much noise, you bring your arms up. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you can see the fish and dinosaur looking at you. The dinosaur seems to be losing her shit. The fish looks like she really wants to see where this is going.

Deep breath in. “HEY SANS! I’M REAL **TIRED** OF YOU SLEEPING ALL THE TIME!” You shout, while at the same time lifting and throwing Sans at Papyrus, who managed to catch Sans mid dance move. You fall over from being unbalanced. Sans was so light, you used too much force and ended up faceplanted on the couch, a pair of giggling children above you. You burst out laughing yourself, unable to stop. It’s just so funny! The sound of Toriel running over to make sure everyone is okay is almost drowned out by the music. When she sees the predicament, Toriel begins to laugh hysterically. A loud booming and a quiet giggling follow, probably belonging to the fish and dino. Papyrus exclaims loudly when he understands your pun. The music has stopped, the little ghost probably noticing the sudden activity.

You hear the sound of people ‘oohing. The feeling of someone grabbing you by the back of the shirt is followed by being pulled up by the back of the shirt. The world comes back into view. The blue, scaly fish looks like she is dying, long red hair swinging around in a ponytail. The dinosaur is covering her face with two yellow claws. She looks scared. Toriel looks like she is ready to die of laughter. No-arms seems to be in awe, the kid beside him looking simultaneously scared for your health and unapologetic. The ghost looks like he wants to disappear forever. Papyrus seems extremely disappointed in you, while also very confused as to what is going on. You aren’t sure you know yourself.

Your face is a few inches from Sans’. His eye lights have gone out, but his cheeky grin remains. He looks ready to murder you. “you know, kid, i hope you **blank-get** what you’ve started. by the end of this, i’ll have you **couch-ering** in fear.”

            .

            ..

            …

            Oh. Well then.

_I’m screwed._

 

 

_Or not??_

 

           Sans drops you onto the couch, proceeding to sit down beside you. The room stays quiet for a moment. And then, as though nothing had happened, everyone began to talk again, the music starting up. You sit on the couch for a while, just staring into space, when the kid nudges you. Oh, right. The reason you attacked Sans in the first place. You turn to Sans, who is still awake, and shake him as hard as you can. He gives you a very bored look, but turns to you all the same. “can i help ya, kiddo?” You nod at him, then turn to the kid. The kid does a few things with their hands. Sans nods at them like he understands, before looking at you.

           “kid says their name is frisk. says it’s lovely ta meet ya.” You look from Sans to Frisk. The kid is nodding enthusiastically. You mutter a quiet ‘Nice to meet you’ and introduce yourself. Frisk gives you a happy smile. You wonder to yourself for a bit. How was Frisk able to speak to Sans with their hands? The only way to know is to ask. Frisk goes to get up, but you grab their arm. Frisk gives you a funny look, but stays.

          “What were you doing with your hands, squirt?” You try to ask as nonchalantly as possible. Frisk looks at Sans, then softly removes themselves from you. Your arm falls to your side. Sans puts his hand on your shoulder, making you look at him. He looks apologetic.

          “sorry for goin ta sleep on ya. i like havin a good laugh, but, uh. anyway,” His face becomes dusted with a blue color. You raise an eyebrow at him and the blue color spreads. Is that blush? “the kid was talkin with their hands. s’ called sign language. you use it ta communicate. ya see, the kid is mute, can’t speak. so, they use sign language. i could teach ya some. if ya want.” He looks extremely nervous. Why is he sweating? For a moment the two of you are silent. Then, you nod your head. Sans’ smile seems to brighten.    

           And so you begin to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I appreciate criticism!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	12. Not an Update

Wow..... I can't believe it. This story got past 100 kudos. How does something like this happen? At most, I thought maybe twenty people would see this and less than half would actually  _like_ it.

Soooooo.

Yeah.

Most people do something special. I don't know what to do? Any suggestions for books? Have any questions? Have an idea for something that should happen in this fic? Say something! It can be my present to you. For reading through this terrible fan fiction, for commenting, for leaving kudos, and for being awesome. 

 

As always  criticism is appreciated! Thanks for reading!

~ <3


	13. Mettaton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More partying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we are here. I made an exceptional effort at making this longer. I really tried. Unfortunately, I have trouble writing. Oops.

       You spend the next hour or so learning sign language. During your private lesson, the people at the party came up and introduced themselves. The no-arms kid is actually named Monster Kid. He wore a striped shirt with no arm holes. The little spikes on his head and tail are curved, not sharp enough to hurt. His three toes wiggled when he scooted towards you. He nudged you with his head and said, "You're really cool! Like Undyne! Do you like Undyne? I'm Monster Kid by the way, but everyone calls me MK! We should be friends!" He was so happy, you had to accept his friendship. He began to beam happily. A few minutes later MK was pulled away by Frisk, who wanted to teach MK to dance. The two began a cheerful dance, in which MK fell on his face a bunch. By the end of the dance, MK had several bruises, and had to be patched up. Afterward he decided to sit and watch Frisk and Papyrus dance. You figured this was a wise decision.

       The next people to approach and introduce themselves were Undyne and Alphys. Undyne stomped over, Alphys in tow. Undyne is tall. Almost as tall as Ruto and Papyrus. She looks strong, strong enough to throw a hard punch. Undyne has skin a sky blue covered by a tank top and jeans. You assume she is the one who owns the boots. She has gills on her neck, below ears that remind you of a pair of fins. Her fire red hair pulled into a ponytail, she stopped in front of you. "Hey, punk! I'm Undyne. Nice to see you around. Papyrus told me you were cool. We should fight!" You looked from Undyne to Sans in horror. Why would you want to fight her?!? She looks like she could easily rip you in two! 

      Thankfully, Alphys stepped in, albeit reluctantly. "U-Undyne! Y-You can't g-go around picking f-fights! You k-know th-that!" Alphys tugged on Undyne's arm urgently. It seemed Undyne challenged people to fights often. Undyne had become sheepish. (As sheepish as a tall, buff, and menacing fish lady can become, anyway)  

      You gave Alphys a smile. Her stutter was adorable! It reminded you of yourself as a teenager. Stuttering and awkward. Ah, the days of old. 

      "Sorry, punk. I still think we should hang out though. You can watch Kissy Cutie Three with us!" Undyne thrust a piece of paper into your face, which you took and gently tucked into a pocket. Alphys made the greatest face of all time. It was a you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me face. 

      "Undyne! She can't watch Kissy Cutie Three!" You flinched at Alphys tone. Of course she didn't want to hang out with you. You had just met. The only reason they were talking to you was because you knew Papyrus. Why did you ever think that you could befriend anyone?  Before you could tell Undyne that she didn't have to invite you, Alphys continued her rant. "She has to watch Kissy Cutie Two first! And what about One? Are you even thinking right now? How could you suggest such a vile thing? Watching Three before One and Two. You have no common sense!" Alphys continues to go on and on about anime. She begins to discuss the major plot points you would miss if you just watched Kissy Cutie Three.

      Undyne leans over to you and Sans, one hand cupped to her mouth. "She'll be like this for a while. See you two later! And Sans, don't tell any of your stupid puns, or I'll give you a good beating." With that, Undyne grabbed Alphys by the arm and dragged the ranting dinosaur away. 

      You watch them go, happy to have met them. The paper in your pocket serves as a reminder. You can make friends. You smile as Undyne sits Alphys on the ground next to the DJ ghost. Alphys still appears to be ranting, face slowly becoming red. You wonder how long she'll be at it.

      "they're datin', ya know." You whip around to face the oddly quiet Sans. He's just been sitting there observing you this entire time. Your face turns just a slight shade of pink. Sans seems to take this as a sign you don't believe his claim. "yeah. undyne sent alphys a letter. the kiddo delivered it for her. was the cutest thing. two 'ave been together ever since." Sans shrugs as though this is no big deal. You think it very much is. You had been silently shipping them from the moment Alphys began her rant. They were just so perfect together!

      You wonder if Sans is dating. Your heart flutters. You have to resist the urge to hit your chest to stop your heart's attempts at flustering you. You gave up dating a long time ago. Then again, dating may help with your constant thoughts of Nick....

      You don't have much time to consider this because, very suddenly, a form appears in front of you. It looks to be white, with black headphones resting on its head. Little triangles end the bottom of the figure. Two eyes and a mouth begin to appear. Slowly but surely, a ghost forms out of midair. You recognize him as the DJ. 

      You blink at the small ghost. Sans remains silent, even after you nudge him with your elbow. From the corner of your eye you can see Sans watching you. Is he waiting for you to say something? 

      As you take in a breath to speak, the little ghost mutters, "I'm sorry, am I bothering you? I can come back. Or not at all? I messed up huh? I'm sorry. I'll go. Bye." The ghost looks at the ground, slowly fading from veiw. For some reason he reminds you of you. Almost like how Alphys reminded you of you. Odd, how many people seem to be like you, but in the end are completely different. 

      "Wait. You aren't bothering me! What's your name? I'm ______." You would reach out and shake the monster's hand but....he has not hand. The ghost looks up at you and reappears, looking slightly less sad. 

      "I'm Napstablook. Ummmm. Hi." Napstablook looks at the floor again. You have no idea what to say. It's silent on the couch. Behind Napstablook you can seems Papyrus sitting with Toriel, MK, and Frisk. They seem to be playing Concentration, chanting loudly. Undyne stands beside Frisk, shouting encouragement. Alphys chooses to sit alongside Toriel. The laughter of the group makes the silence between you, Sans, and Napstablook more bearable. It does nothing to keep you from feeling awkward. 

Thankfully, Sans decides to finally join the conversation. "you mixed the songs yourself right, napsta? sounds nice. an' don' try ta be modest either. acceptin' praise every once in a while will really life your spirits." Sans winks as he says this. You groan and Napstablook visually flinches, as though he is being teased.  
Trying very hard to forget the pun, (you seem to be having a lot of trouble forgetting the way Sans winked at you) you listen to Napstablook's quiet reply, "Ummm, yeah. I mixed most of it in Waterfall. So, yeah. It was fun to do. Yeah." You wonder if Waterfall has many waterfalls. Also, you've known Napstablook for about 5 minutes, and he's already your favorite little ghost. He's just so darn cute!  
But why? Why is it so easy to accept these people as your friends? People you barely know.  
"What was Waterfall like?" You find yourself asking. You mentally flinch. Will the question come off as rude? Will they hate you? What if they don't want to talk about the place they were trapped for years?  
What will Sans think?  
And why do I care?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      Your question goes unanswered.

    Mostly because Napstablook and Sans are at a loss for words. But also because Papyrus is screaming. Very loudly, actually. It's like a high-pitched, omg-the-guy-I-like-likes-me, sort of scream. The kind only crazed fan girls would scream. It also sounds like a panicky scream, full of sorrow and regret. It doesn't really matter what the scream sounds like, though, because Papyrus is screaming.  
     A quick glance around the room reveals that everyone is still in the living room. Now, everyone is standing up, looking for the source of the high-pitched panic scream. There's Udyne standing protectively next to Alphys, and Toriel hurrying over to help MK, who has fallen over, unable to get up. Napstablook floats over to Toriel, saying what sounds like 'oooooooh noooooo'.  
     You glance to your side to ask Sans what to do, but he's gone, replaced by a thin film of blue mist. Where is he?  
     The only people you can't see are Papyrus and- "Frisk!" Toriel shouts, only now realizing that Frisk is missing. Undyne whispers something to Alphys, to which Alphys responds with a hasty shake of the head. Undyne moves to get away, but Alphys grabs her arm with a feircness you didn't know she had. For some reason Alphys looks scared. Undyne doesn't seem to have the heart to use her strength on Alphys.  
     The screaming has stopped, leaving an eerie silence in it's wake. You stand from the couch and slowly head towards the kitchen. From it are the sounds of angry whispers and quiet 'nyhoos'.  
     You approach slowly, knees slightly bent, and one hand in front of you. Toriel attempts to reach out an stop you, but you pull way from her large paws, silent feet continuing to move towards the kitchen. You flatten yourself against the edge of the doorway. Undyne gives you a thumbs up from her trapped position.  
      The kitchen appears to be the same, only slightly messier. Popato Chisps litter the ground and counter, one area of the counter is cleared of bags, instead covered by a paper towel. On the paper towel is a piece of bread half covered with strawberry jam. The bottle of said jam lays over turned on the ground, only slightly cracked in the side. Papyrus stands unharmed in the far side of the kitchen, gloved hands covering his face. He makes small 'nyhoohoho's every once in a while. Standing closely together are Sans and Frisk. They have very angry looks on their faces. From their hurried chatter you catch the words: 'reset', 'genocide', 'never again', and 'Papyrus'.  
      Sans hand is covered in more blue mist. His eyelights have disappeared, leaving an empty void in their wake. The permanent smile on his face has pulled into a sneer. Frisk looks equally agitated. They are holding what looks like a knife covered with red. It hangs in Frisk's hand naturally, as though they'd handled knives before.  
    The sight of the red knife in their hand makes you want to scream. Their short cut hair, their sweater slightly stained with red, the anger in their eyes. The knife in their hand stained with blood. Your blood. And you can't breathe, can't think, can't see. And you're panicking, panicking because Frisk looks like them. Like the kid that attacked you all those times ago. The one that came from the mountain in place of the monsters. The one that you tried to save everyone from. And you feel like that's irrational. Frisk is kind and gentle. But your head is spinning, and your vision is blurring, and all you can see are red eyes and red knives, and black clouds. Black clouds trying to suffocate you. Trying to squeeze the life out of you. Trying to take you and break you and kill you. And that's too much. This is too much. Seeing the same days over and over is too much. So you do what any rational person would do. You have a panic attack.  
     Frisk and Sans turn in unison when they hear you hyperventilating. The next few moments are terribly slow. So slow that you can't quite tell them apart from one another. Then things speed up, and your head begins to pound. Sans is holding you. Now the couch is. Someone is speaking much too loudly. Someone is talking very calmly. Someone is laughing. You close your eyes, trying to block out the lights that are suddenly to bright. There is a knocking at the door.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   When your eyes open again, the room is full of noise. Someone is singing loudly to a song you don't know. Everyone else is clapping to the beat. From the corner of your eye you can see Frisk and Toriel dancing together. They look happy. Undyne and Alphys are off to the side chatting excitedly. They seem content. Papyrus is staring at the person singing. He appears excited. Sans watches his brother with an amused expression on his face. You can't quite read him. 

     The person singing is a robot wearing a brown hat and trench coat. You can't tell what gender (if they have one) they are. They have pink and black hair sweeping over one eye, a silver face, and pink and black themed clothes, most notably long pink boots. They look like a rock star. You vaugley recall the trench coat. Do you know this robot?  
      Then it hits you. You stand with wobbly feet on top of the couch. It gives slightly, making you sway. Pointing an accusing finger and gathering your voice, you shout. "You!" It's the best you can come up with. You suddenly feel very embarrassed. What were you thinking? Shouting at some random person. Sure, they bumped you on the street, but is it really that big of a deal? The robot is looking at you. Now what?  
    "Have we met darling?" The robot pronounces the 'a' in darling like 'ah' so it sounds more like 'dahling'. The trench coat swishes as the robot approaches you, microphone in hand.  
     "Y-You, um. I think we may have bumped into each other on the street. So, um. Hi." You slowly sit back on the couch, feeling extremely stupid. Everyone is looking at you with an odd expression on thier face.  
     "Oh! I remember you. You're that lovely young girl that bumped into me the other day. Oh, I never thought I'd see you again! It's so nice to meet you darling~ I'm Mettaton, you may have heard of me. I'm sorry for being so rude, I was in a hurry, but now I see you, I just can't help but marvel in your beauty! Please forgive me." As he says this, Mettaton bows, taking your hand and lightly kissing it. Your face is on fire. In the background you see Sans roll his eyes.  
     "OH, METTATON! IT SEEMS _________ HAS A HABIT OF BUMPING INTO PEOPLE! JUST A BIT AGO SHE HIT ME AT THE MALL!" Papyrus seems to think this is very funny. Mettaton giggles along with everyone else. Your face becomes even more red. Why did you ever agree to this party? Oh wait, you didn't.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
     Mettaton goes back to singing eventually. The microphone is plugged into the TV, which begins to blare excessively loud music. You sit around on the couch, occasionally singing along with Mettaton. He's actually not a bad singer. Much better than you, anyway.  
     After an few songs, Sans strolls over and sits beside you. He nudges you with his jacketed elbow. You only now realized he's wearing the same outfit you saw him in before. Maybe he really likes jackets.  
     "so kiddo, what was up with ya? y'know, in the kitchen. gave everyone a heart attack, you did." Sans looks worried. He shouldn't be. You are perfectly fine. You tell him, but he just shakes his head. "you're not fine kiddo. jus' tell me somethin'. i wanna help ya, but i don' know how."  
      You just shake your head. He wouldn't understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The party is finally over.  
> As always, criticism is appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	14. The Days Go By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has finally started, and I've had a migraine for the past three days. Life hates me SO much right now. Bleh.

   The party ends when Toriel and Frisk leave. Frisk began to yawn tiredly, making Toriel’s mother senses go off. The two walked off into the night with a smile and a wave. You still can’t understand what Frisk is saying, but you’ve made progress.

   At the moment, you were proud of yourself when you recognized they had said “Have a nice night!” Now, you look back on it as being silly for feeling accomplished by such little progress. Sure, you can understand tiny bits and phrases, whoopty-freakin-doo. Not like it mattered anyway. Eventually the world would just begin again. Even if you managed to meet the kid again, what if you messed things up? What if Frisk was different? It had happened before to a kid you once knew. The one time you tried to make friends, a kid named Locus somehow managed to ruin everything. When you were introducing yourself, he called you a freak and a loser. He said since you always squinted, it made you a monster, and you should go where all the other freaks were. Locus told you to go and never return. Of course, he was 18 and a total douche. He was obviously drunk, but you couldn’t let go of what he said. You had wished he would just keel over and die somewhere. When the world began again a few days later, Locus was dead, and had been for 6 years. You felt bad, but not that bad, and that made you feel even worse. That was when you first began to realize that no matter what happened, everything would end up fine. No matter what damage you did, everything would restart. It would just be a little different than before. Not that that mattered. Not that anything matters.

   You don’t even know why you came to this stupid party. You didn’t know it was a party at the time, but still. You agreed to come over to Papyrus’ house after just meeting him. You joke and kid with him and his brother. You know his friends. You’re pretty sure Undyne gave you her number. You act as though everything will be fine, but it won’t be. It won’t be because the world is a messed up place that loves to make you miserable. A place that may never be repaired.

   When Undyne whips the alcohol out, you officially want to leave. You don’t know these people. You don’t want to be around them right now. You want to go home. “Undyne, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Besides, it’s getting late, I should get going. See you guys later.” You wave at them, exiting the front door before Papyrus can offer you a ride home. You want to be alone right now. You just barely catch sight of Sans’ expression as you leave. It’s something between disappointment and nonchalance. Like he cares and really doesn’t want to. You turn from the brightly lit skeleton house without another glance. Now isn’t the time to have regrets.

   It takes you a moment to get your bearings. The neighborhood you’re in is one you don’t recognize. It looks like a bundle of houses very similar to the skeleton brother’s, all tan and tall and probably expensive. The thought of all this costly equipment reminds you of Papyrus’ car. You feel only a small twinge of jealousy. How can the monsters pay for all this stuff? Did they have money there? And if so, it must have been a limited amount, there’s no way to print money underground is there? 

   Even if they did have money, why did it seem as though every monster was set up with perfect living conditions? Despite having emerged from the mountain only days earlier, they all seemed to be set up with a home, a job, or a ticket out of this town. It took you forever to work up enough money to live on your own. Your run-in with Nick had left you near penniless, but some quick thinking had landed you in a tiny apartment. The same apartment you live in now. You’ve been living there for 2 years, barely living. The monsters are basically set for life. It doesn’t seem fair to you. And for a moment you’re jealous. For one scary moment, you get a tiny taste of what a monster hater feels. Then you come to your senses and realize that it shouldn’t matter, and you shouldn’t care because you never cared before. Besides, life is pain, anyone who says differently is selling something. 

   Shaking your head a bunch, you finally step off the skeleton brother’s driveway and onto the sidewalk. It’s  a 15-ish minute walk from here to your house, and the darkness is starting to freak you out. It reminds you too much of the Lost Woods. 

   As you begin the only slightly hurried walk home, you think about the Lost Woods. How similar they are to the oak trees lining the carefully done sidewalk. How the gutters seem to hold glowing eyes, watching and waiting for you to slip and fall close enough for them to snap you up. The tall, metal light posts spaced evenly along the sidewalk cast circles of light on the ground, the only halos of safety in a sea of darkness. The road beside you, occasionally occupied by a car. This is the growing darkness that rules the world, and if you don’t hurry, you’ll be swallowed whole along with everything else. 

    These thoughts fueling you, you reach home in 5 minutes.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_    Sansy _

   and that’s the way the news goes! 

 

_    You _

   Psh, that’s not funny. 

 

_    Sansy _

   please, u find me hilarious

 

_    You _

   I don’t find that funny in the slightest.

   -Why do you always type like that?

 

_    Sansy _

    way to change the subject

-what way

 

_    You _

   You always use ‘u’ in place of ‘you’, and you never use punctuation or anything.

 

_    Sansy _

   so what? why’d u care

   -s’not that serious

 

_    You _

   I don’t know. Just annoying.

 

_    Sansy _

   ‘sides, you do weird things too

 

_    You _

   Oh really? Like what?

 

_    Sansy _

   u always take the time to type stuff out

   -like ‘I don’t know’. jus’ use idk. 

 

_    You _

   I like to be understood. 

 

_    Sansy _

   ?

 

_    You _

   I had an issue with someone before. They didn’t understand what I meant, and it ended bad. 

 

_    Sansy _

   u alright?

 

_    You _

   Yeah, don’t worry about it. ~~That time doesn’t exist anymore, it was reset when the world was.~~

 

   You delete that last part so as not to worry Sans. You don’t need to make anyone else suffer through what you have now dubbed the ‘Restarts’. What actually happened was you used to think LOL stood for ‘lots of love’. When your friend told you his parents had just been killed in a double murder, you texted him LOL. He cursed your name, spread bad rumors about you, and managed to get you a lecture from your boss all a few hours after the incident. It took a long time to convince him it was a misunderstanding, and by then your reputation had been ruined.  You don’t even know how Ruto found out about it, but when she did, she docked SO MUCH money from your pay. You’re not even sure that’s legal! Ever since, you’ve typed clearly. 

   Shifting slightly on your bed, you think about Sans. The way he acted last night. Safely in your home, you allow yourself to consider the party. The overheard conversation. ‘Reset’ was obvious. It meant re-do, re-try, restart. The restart part was what confused you, what if they were talking about The Restarts? But, that’s impossible, right? 

   You had to look up ‘genocide’ on your computer. Apparently, genocide is the killing of a group of people. Why were Frisk and Sans argueing about genocide? 

   The last two phrases were easily deciphered. Frisk had said something like ‘never again’. They must have made a mistake that they regret. Sans had angrily exclaimed something about Papyrus. You couldn’t hear much, but it sounded like he was worried about Papyrus’ health. Odd. 

   You phone buzzes. 

 

_    Sansy _

welp. if u say so. 

-how are u?

 

_ You _

__ Fine. 

 

_ Sansy _

__ u don’t seem fine.

 

_ You _

__ What do you mean?

 

_ Sansy _

__ at the party. u didn’t seem fine then.

 

_ You _

__ I am fine. You don’t need to worry. I am fine. 

 

_ Sansy _

__ ttyl

 

Sans doesn’t text back at all the rest of the day. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Monday, time to head back to school. You float through the day slowly. It’s no fun to be in school, not when you could be doing something productive, like texting at Sans. At the end of the day, you text him back and forth for hours. Your conversations vary from puns, to school, to good books. You can never seem of run out of conversation. Before you know it, you’ve skipped dinner and are lying in bed in the middle of the night, texting food puns back and forth. Your conversation ends with a goodnight.

   Tuesday, another day of school. Another day of agony. You go over meaningless topics, having “open-ended” discussions, doing things that in the end didn’t teach you anything. You’re still surprised that the world hasn’t restarted. Usually the Restarts would happen a day or two after the monsters emerged from the mountain. It’s been a considerable amount of time. Maybe it’s finally over? Ha, no. That’s not possible. 

    Wednesday, not much happens. 

   Thursday, work day. You start the day early, plagued by very in-depth nightmares. The monster protesters are back, waving their signs in the air. The only difference, is now there are also monster supporters, they hang around the park, explaining why monsters are good. It’s sweet to watch. You get a surprise visitor around the end of your shift. Surprise! It’s Papyrus. He comes inside and asks you to order something for him. When your shift ends, you join him at his table. A few people give you dirty looks, but you make faces back at them, and they look away. In the light of the slowly descending sun, you and Papyrus talk. It’s small talk sure, but talk all the same. You feel like you can call him your friend. 

   Friday, work day. Sleep is non-existent. You are visited by Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys at work. They seem to notice you’re tired, but don’t say anything. The three invite you to a day out with them. It sounds like a day including make-overs, dressup, and other girly things. They say it will be in a few days, and you gladly accept. Anything to get away from your recent nightmares. 

  Saturday, A day full of texting. 

 

_    Toriel _

   I am so glad you can join us!

 

_    Undyne _

   You better be on time, punk!

 

_    Alphys _

    Do you have any animes to suggest?

 

_     Papyrus _

__ HUMAN! AFTER YOUR GIRL DAY, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD JOIN ME FOR PASTA MAKING?

 

_ Sansy _

__ knock knock

 

_ Mettaton  _ (How did he get your number? And why is it in your phone???)

Hello beauty~ I hope you will accept my invitation to dinner.

 

   _ Alphys _

__ I gave Mettaton your number, I hope you don’t mind.

 

_ Toriel _

__ Child, I noticed you seemed tired lately, are you okay?

 

_ Undyne _

__ Hey, punk, answer my texts!

 

_ Sansy _

__ kid, we’re worried. 

-what’s on your mind?

 

__ _ Papyrus _

__ I CAN’T HELP NOTICE YOU HAVEN’T ANSWERED ME. ARE YOU BUSY?

 

_ Toriel _

__ I have a question. 

-Do you prefer Butterscotch or Cinnamon?

 

_ Sansy _

__ kiddo, you gonna answer?

 

You don’t answer any of their texts. Mostly because you’re wrapped up in a terrible dream for most of the day. When you do respond, it’s slow and uninformative. Saturday is not your day.

Sunday, bad dreams of unimaginable proportions. What is going on? Everything is just getting worse. People have noticed. You ran into Papyrus while you were getting more milk at the store. Even he noticed you didn’t look good. You need to figure this out, and quickly. 

Monday, and the nightmares are worse. You just barely make it through school. Sans actually tracked down and stopped you in the street on your way home. He tells jokes about your looks. He seems worried. You tell him you’re fine. He thinks you're a liar. You leave him in the street, standing and watching as you leave. 

    Tuesday, it seems as though your life is on repeat. People are texting you, nightmares are raging, the lectures are the same. This seems to be the longest Restart in a long time. How much long is this going to last. When will the world start over? You spend most of the time waiting for the world to go again. 

    Wednesday, you sleep in. You can't remember what you're supposed to do today. Your phone seems to buzz non-stop. You eventually disable notifications. It's not like you're going to respond anyway. Why bother knowing that people are texting? 

    Thursday, you call in sick to work. You need to get to the bottom of these nightmares. It's time to dive all-in. It's time to understand. It's time to sleep. It's not hard to surrender to the pull of sleep. You've been avoiding it for days now. You need to get your life back on track. ~~Even if it is useless.~~

It's time ~~to surrender to the nightmares.~~

to defeat the darkness. 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While it is short, I'm hoping it's powerful. The next chapter is going to be epic. Kinda.  
> Is anyone else counting down the days to summer?  
> As always, criticism is appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


	15. Sleep Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of pancakes, this took forever for me to write. I'm really sorry about the delay, and hope it was worth it. But holy heck, this was so hard to write. Poor you! Also, it's only part 1. Oops. I could have taken another few days to update the whole thing, but what's the fun in that? I like suspense. 
> 
> (Umm. There are A LOT of trigger warning and terrible moments. PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WITH BURNING CHILDREN, CURSED CHARMS, EVIL WITCH LADIES, OR ANYTHING ELSE OF THAT SORT. Don't worry, no suicide warnings or rape things happening today. Just good old fashioned death and destruction.)
> 
> [(Also, I didn't let him in, he kind of just hacked my stuff. He decided to do a sort of intro/crash course on your life, so don't take him too seriously. I think he just likes the story. I personally find him a little weird, but I'm also just along for the ride.)] 
> 
> ([{Don't tell him I said that.}])

Greetings. I am #######.

I must warn you, this will be unpleasant. _____ has suffered through many things. She has lived through many resets. Yes, I know what a reset is. Yes, I’ve seen _____’s life. You have too. Well, some of it anyway. First, I must state the obvious. _____ has terrible luck. When she was young, her family was killed, and it was all her fault. For years after she was bullied, ridiculed, and pushed around by everyone from her foster parents to kids who were supposed to be her family. When she finally managed to escape with Nick, they fell in and then out of love. The reason why is very sinister, and I still shiver to think about it. Then, even after all that had happened, she kept high hopes. She used to be a lot like Papyrus actually, all sunshine and rainbows. When the resets began, she didn’t know what to think. It was very odd for _____. The world started again after 2 years of monsters happily living on the surface. Had she dreamed the whole thing? No, everything went the same, only a bit hazier. It had been 2 years after all.

The rest you should know. From that point forward everything went downhill. People called her a psychic when she ‘magically’ predicted the monsters would appear. I won’t lie, she enjoyed the fame for a bit. But after awhile, things became boring. That was when the first genocide run was complete. You should have pieced together the rest. Frisk -or Chara- or whomever was doing all the bad things, they kept going. For longer than they should have, honestly. They went all out. Hundreds of timelines passed, some of them good, some of them bad. Some somewhere in between.

On the last genocide run, _____ went insane. She did bad things. You’ll probably see some of them in her dreams.

After that timeline, Frisk went full pacifist and freed everyone. This is the timeline you are reading about now.

Now that I have gone through the big points in ______’s life, I must say, you are persistent. You read about worlds that aren’t yours, you make stories about places you can’t go, and talk about people you’ll never meet. You clicked on, and read this story, a story I tell. No, I’m not JustABitOdd. They have no control over this story. I tell them what happens, they write it out for me. For you see, I’m not real. Not in your reality anyway. I’m sure you have many questions about that little fact. Feel free to ask, I’ll see if I can get JustABitOdd to answer. For now, I’ll answer some hypothetical questions myself and save you some effort.

How do I know _____’s life? Well, that’s simple, I live in a place between multiverses. Don’t worry too much about the specifics, but suffice it to say, I am able to see everything that happens in Time & Time Again. I looked at this world as I did all others, when I noticed an aberration that intrigued me. It was ______. I reached out to JABO (JustABitOdd) and informed them of my recent find. They were unsure of working with me at first, but eventually they came around. For some reason, that world looked familiar to me, maybe that’s why I insisted on JABO assisting me. This all doesn’t really matter though, I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on in _____’s mind. We’ll get to that soon enough.

Why did I ever think whispering this story into JABO’s ear was a good idea? I thought it would be interesting to see how your world responded. Nothing especially strange has happened, but JABO seems to really appreciate all your support. In the end, I suppose I don’t regret anything.

On to the last thing I must tell you. The following will contain very, very terrible words. There will be death, violence, rape/non-con elements, and suicidal elements. JABO had trouble writing this, even though they swore to finish, to take this story to the very end. No, the story will not end here, it has only just begun, we haven’t even gotten into the romance yet, but this will certainly be a chapter to remember.

I am warning you now, this is your last chance to skip over this terrible tale. JABO will tell you all about it in the notes, minus the bad things of course.

If you are continuing, you are brave. Either that, or incredibly curious. Maybe you simply don’t care. This world is not yours, after all.

Whatever the case may be, good luck.

I’ll see you on the other side.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Sleep. It wraps around you like a rope, slowly coiling tighter until you suffocate. You can’t see. (The darkness is closing in.) You can’t move. (Could you ever?) You can’t breathe. (Do you want to?) _

_    “Help. Help, I don’t want to die. Please, save me! Someone, anyone! I’m here!” Your voice hurts from screaming. There is no echo in this world, if this is a world at all. There is only nothing. (Are you seeing blackness, or are you blind?) _

__ _ The only way to describe nothingness is by imagining nothing. This makes it impossible to see nothing at all. You can feel your eyes, they blink sluggishly. When your eyes are closed, there is black. When your eyes open, you see nothing. Nothing is not black or white, nor any other color on the spectrum. Imagine you suddenly became blind, then forget that, because there is nothing to see here anyway. Looking at the nothing makes your head hurt. You opt to keep your eyes closed. _

_    Your fingers begin to tingle. It feels like your fingers fell asleep and refused to wake up for a long time. One of your leg muscles spasm without your permission. Slowly but surely, you begin to regain feeling in your body. It starts as a tingling and ends when very suddenly, your entire body begins to burn. _

__ _ You call out again, louder and more urgently than before, your lungs straining in the nothingness. You scream until you can’t hear your voice anymore. _

__ _ (But nobody came…) _

__ _ There is light behind your eyelids. When they open, you immediately have to cover them again. The nothing is gone, replaced with a bright white. It blinds you for a moment, but after a few moments, you manage to open your eyes. This world seems to be devoid of anything. It isn’t nothing, but it’s not exactly something. You tilt your head upwards and sigh. Where are you? _

_The ceiling is covered in criss-crossed lines of blue rope, reminding you of one giant spiderweb. Your eyes open wider than before, examining the blue strings._ _Intertwined in the strings are small dolls about the size of your hand. Each one of them appear to have white skin and different colored jackets. If you could reach, you’d pull one down to examine it, but as is, your fingers don’t come close to grabbing the dolls._

_    By now your vision has returned fully, and you can see that there is nothing but white in all directions. You feel suffocated, but it’s better than the endless nothing from before. You get shivers as you begin to walk in a random direction, feet clicking on the white beneath you. _

__ _ A voice whispers from nearby, “This is the anti-void. What are you doing here?” You spin around to try and locate the speaker, but there’s no one there. _

__ _ “H-Hello?” Your voice echos, invisible walls bouncing your frantic voice back at you. There is a rustling in the wind. There is a changing of the air. There is no way you’re staying here any longer. You restart your journey in a new direction, walking a little faster than before. Your hands only shake a little as you find a way out of this new prison. _

__ _ “Who are you?” There is another voice, this one a bit more tentative than the first. They sound confused. You decide to pretend you didn’t hear the voice. _

__ _ “Hey! It’s rude to ignore people!” This voice sounds very angry, their voice deeper than the others. Are these all different people speaking to you? And where are their voices coming from? _

__ _ “I-I’m sorry for bothering you!” “Oh! Are you new here?” “Do you like ice cream, stranger?” “Looks like Blue has a new playmate!” “How do you feel?” “Don’t worry about us! We’re just the Askers, we mean no harm. At least I don’t!” “Here, have a stuffed animal!” The voices are mixing together, becoming indecipherable messes. They ask questions, tell you things, and call for Blueberry. Whoever that is. _

__ _ You put your hands over your ears and begin to run. It doesn’t matter where, as long as you can get away from the voices. They don’t stop talking, don’t stop asking questions, don’t leave you alone. _

__ _ “Go away!” You shout at them. Almost immediately, the voices stop. The quiet is unsettling. It worms at you and tries to unnerve you more than before. You keep sprinting, not chancing the voices talking to you again. The white floor moves under you. Or maybe you’re running in place? It’s hard to tell her, everything looks the same. Even the blue strings have disappeared, probably left behind when you began to run from the voices. _

__ _ A distant voice is heard not to far away. This voice sounds different from the others. This one sounds more real, more alive. You try to hide, but there’s nowhere to run. You wish for some way out. Some magic escape hole to leave through, so you never have to see this place again. _

__ _ “Oh! Hello friend! Who are you!” You turn to look at the speaker, and this time you come face to face with….Sans? No. That’s not Sans. It’s some sort of weird Papyrus-Sans hybrid. He still wears blue, but now it’s a blue scarf thing, blue armor, and blue boots. You assume that this small marshmallow is the Blueberry the other voices were talking about. He’s certainly enthusiastic. But you have no time to hang around. You can’t quite remember what you’re supposed to be doing, but you know it’s important. Important enough for you to be afraid of it. What was it? _

__ _ You pay no mind to the shouting Blueberry, vibrating around you excitedly, like a small dog. You still need a way out of here. There’s no time to ask the Sans beside you, so you simply walk away from him. He seems to deflate when he notices you are leaving. He asks to go with you, but you don’t know how to take him from here. You just shrug. He nods like he understands. He probably doesn’t. _

__ _ You wish with all your heart you could leave. The feeling of a hole opening in your chest is accompanied by a hole opening in the floor. You inch toward it, not quite sure what it is. The hole is pitch black, the complete opposite of here. Blueberry Sans looks at you quizzically. _

_ “What are you doing, human?” _

__ _ You point at the hole, but Blueberry isn’t able to see it. Maybe it’s only for you to use? You wave goodbye to the small Sans, feeling bad about leaving him here by himself. Will he be okay? You decide it isn’t your problem. Besides, you have other things to be doing. Sorry, bud. _

__ _ You jump into the hole and the world goes black. _

_ (This is only the beginning.) _

__ _ \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ _

__ _ The eyes are looking at you. Your hands are shaking from the fear, but only for a bit. Soon, the fear leaves, and all that’s left is curiosity. The grass beneath your feet crunches as you stroll forward. Trees seem to sprout from nowhere, suddenly growing very tall. Bushes and flowers pop-up randomly along the path you walk. The eyes are looking, but you do not care. The music is floating, but you do not hear it. The people you love are lost, but you do not know this. This is the Lost Woods. And it will not let you go. _

__ _ Shuffle shuffle. A few steps closer. _

__ _ (I wonder where this path leads.) _

__ _ Step step. The eyes keep following. _

__ _ (Are they following the music too?) _

__ _ Oh, wow. A little cottage made of brush. _

__ _ (This place is so strange.) _

__ _ Rustle rustle. Leaves scatter as you put a hand to the door. _

__ _ (Maybe I should knock.) _

__ _ Knock knock. The forest echoes loudly. _

__ _ (Maybe I should leave.) _

__ _ Creak crack. The door opens to a young lady with green hair and pale skin. She is so beautiful. Maybe she can help you? Help you what? What are you doing? The music makes it hard to think. _

__ _ (Can you help me?) _

__ _ The lady smiles at you. “A young child in the Lost Woods. We can’t have that. Please, come inside.” She beckons to you with carefully manicured fingers. She must be nice. No, you can’t go inside houses with strangers. _

__ _ (But she isn’t a stranger. I know her. She’s nice.) _

__ _ But what about mom and dad? What about Adrian? _

__ _ (What about those kids that hurt me? They make fun of me! Only Adrian helps, and even he thinks it’s kinda funny!) _

__ _ You need to go in the house. The music says so. The door creaks as it closes behind you. The inside of the cottage is wood. There is a small fireplace to the left of a large desk. A small cot is shoved into the far right corner. The lady sits at the desk, pulling small objects out of a drawer. It’s a paintbrush and ink, along with a wooden tablet. The lady crooks a finger at you, calling you closer. Your feet move without you, vision swimming as you near. There’s something shimmery about the lady’s face. _

__ _ “Do not be afraid, small one. I am Saria. I am not here to hurt you.” Her voice is so lovely, it sounds like music. “How did you come to be in the Lost Woods?” _

__ _ “M-My brother took be here. I left him behind. Oh no! I should go back, he will be angry!” You turn to leave, but the music’s too loud. What were you doing again? Saris gives you a very kind smile. Oh, you were talking to the lady. You give her a smile back. _

__ _ “Do not worry. Who is your brother?” Saria rests her chin in her hands. She seems very interested in what you have to say. Not like those bullies in town. They call you names and spread bad rumours. They make life terrible. You can’t do anything about them though. Your parents always say to deal with things by talking it out, but how are you supposed to talk an entire town of children into thinking you’re not a witch? _

__ _ “My brother is Adrian. He comes here with his meany friends all the time.” You wind your hands together. Will she be angry your brother came here? Why would she be? _

__ _ To your dismay, Saria’s face twitches in anger. When she notices you’ve seen, she calms immediately. You become panicked. Is she angry at you? You should leave. The music grows louder. Why are you so scared? Saria is your friend. You should stay. _

__ _ Saria considers something before grabbing her paintbrush. She has a look on her face you can’t place. _

_ “What do you wish for most in life?” Saria’s voice sounds strained, but also calm. What does she mean? She wants you to make a wish? Well, you do have one request. Would she really do it though? _

__ _ (I wish for-) _

__ _ No. Saria is so sweet, you can’t take advantage of her like that. That’s not nice. _

__ _ “Oh, child, do not worry. It is not rude to answer. Let your heart decide your fate. This is destiny, there is no avoiding it.” Saria’s voice sounds cold, and her words hurt your head. You should answer her question. But what if she hates you too? Will she call you vain? _

__ _ (I should find Adrian. I want my family! I want-!) _

__ _ “Shh, enough of that. Your family is not coming. Let me show you something.” Saria stands from her desk and stalks over to the fireplace. There is a cauldron inside, boiling over a small fire. She drops something in the pot and waves her hand. As she does this, her face flickers. You blink to get rid of the effect, but the image sticks with you. The cottage suddenly feels very sinister. Where did the music go? _

__ _ An image appears over the cauldron. It is a group of children surrounding a small raven-haired figure. Your eyes fill with tears. Saria notices and laughs, a cold and foreboding laugh. “Recognize the image do you? It’s the village children bullying you. Hmm. What’s this? Are those you’re brother’s friends?” _

__ _ The children in the picture grow into tall and langly teennagers. They call you names, and pull pranks. Off to the side another figure appears. It’s Adrian. He’s laughing, laughing at you. Tears leave tracks along your cheeks. Why is he laughing at you? He should be defending you! _

__ _ “It makes you angry doesn’t it?” Saria is behind you now, pushing you towards the pot. “Adrian laughs right alongside his friends. He leaves you to be made fun of. He should pay! They all should!” Saria makes sense. She can help you. _

__ _ (I want to make them pay.) _

__ _ Saris guides your hand through the smoke. The village comes into view. It’s on fire, all the people who ever hurt you left to die. You can hear the sounds of their screams, smell their burning flesh. And you laugh. _

__ _ (Serves them right.) _

__ _ The smoke changes into your family. You are on your father’s shoulders, the center of attention. Adrian is off to the side. Mom and dad are so focused on you, they have no time for Adrian. You are the special child now. They love your music, they love your faults, they love you. Everything is perfect. _

__ _ (I want that.) _

__ _ “I see. Do you wish for this?” Saria is already back at her desk, ink open and paintbrush ready. Her face flickers with anticipation. For a moment you hesitate. Then you remember the names, the pranks, the laughter. You want revenge. You want them to know what it’s like. Maybe they shouldn’t die, but they should learn some sort of lesson. _

__ _ “I wish for you to help me get rid of the bullies who hurt me.” _

__ _ Saria smiles, a large and sinister smile. “Your wish is my command.” She makes a few motions with the brush, and the deed is done. Saria hands you the charm. _

__ _ “Take this, it will grant your wish to the letter. Go back to your brother. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know you need to keep the charm. Goodbye, ______” _

__ _ (I did not tell her my name.) _

__ _ You take a step towards her, but her face becomes dark and her eyes glow red. The music is long gone, and you can see what Saria really is. She is what Adrian warned you about. You fell in a trap. You need to give back the charm. _

__ _ Without  the music to distract you, you can think clearly. It’s too late now. Saria laughs one last terrible laugh, and then she is gone, all that’s left of her visit is the charm. _

__ _ (It’s a good charm. It will help me. I must get back to Adrian.) _

__ _ You run quickly, finding the clearing instantly. Adrian is calling your name. He is looking for you. Ocarina and charm around your neck, you find him in the cave. When he sees you he hugs you tightly, muttering things like, ‘I thought I lost you.’ and ‘Where have you been?’ _

__ _ Adrian pulls away, eyes watering. Then he sees the charm. He rips is away from your neck, and you make a grab for it. It’s your charm, he can’t have it! He keeps it away from you, shouting at you to calm down. You listen, sitting on one of the crates. _

__ _ (Adrian is my brother, he will help me.) _

__ _ “Where have you been?” _

__ _ “With Saria!” _

__ _ “Why?” _

__ _ “I was following the music, and I saw the cottage!” _

__ _ “Little sis, what have I told you?” _

__ _ “I forgot.” _

__ _ “Well, not long ago my friend saw Saria too. She gave him what he wanted, and in return he was cursed with terrible luck. He nearly died from the charm Saria gave him! We burned the charm, and the curse was lifted. We need to burn this too.” _

__ _ “O-Okay. Where is the fire wood?” _

__ _ Adrian looks sheepish. “I have no matches, all of them are at home. We’ll have to go there first!” _

__ _ “Oh. Okay. Let’s go!” Adrian nods. Together you leave the cave and head back through the forest. _

__ _ You have to hurry. _

__ _ You’re running out of time. _

__ _ But why do you have a bad feeling in your stomach about fire? _

__ _ Why do you feel like something bad is going to happen? _

__ _ And why do you feel like it’s your fault? _

__ _ \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_     You make it to the house in no time at all. Adrian is pulling you along quickly, and dusk has almost set in, but you make it. None of the bad things that Adrian said might happen. The entire run back home you were filled with dread, but now that you’re home? Everything feels even worse. _

__ _ Your home’s two stories high and painted dark red. The color of blood. Along with the giant wheat field surrounding your home, there is also a small barn for animals, and a garden full of vegetables. There are a few windows shining light on the ground. You wonder if mom and dad are worried about you and Adrian. _

__ _ (What will I tell them when we ask for matches?) _

__ _ Adrian uses his key to open the back entrance, slowly bringing me along. He takes me up the stairs, where all the rooms are. He doesn’t stop when we pass my brightly decorated room, nor does he pause at our parent’s door. He only stops creeping along the floor when we reach his door, closed as usual. He opens the door quickly, the door almost hitting the wall with the force. Adrian catches the door to keep it from making much noise. Mom and dad are in the kitchen, cooking what smells like mac n’ cheese, the sounds of their voices carrying up to the second floor. You’re not even sure they know you’re here. _

__ _ (So Adrian must keep the matches in his room. I wonder why?) _

__ _ Adrian lets go of your hand, opening a hidden drawer under his bed. You watch in awe as he brings out the battered little box of matches. It’s small, smaller than Adrian’s hand, and bright red. There’s a tiny design on the front. You lean in to look, and see a family of four, slowly turning into ash. You close your eyes, suddenly smelling smoke. Your head hurts. Where are you? _

__ _ Adrian is telling you something. _

__ _ “Huh?” You say, finally coming back to the present. _

__ _ (Is this the present?) _

__ _ “I need you to get some wood, we need to burn this thing.” He holds up the charm. You feel your heart flutter and your eyes widen. Up until this point, Adrian had the charm tucked away in his pocket. Now that it’s out in the open, you want it back. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That charm’s bad luck, why can’t you get that in your head? _

__ _ “But, what if we set the house on fire?” You ask this on a whim, trying to block out the voices, but it actually makes sense. What if you burn the house down? _

__ _ “I know, but the charm must be burned in the dwelling of the owner. We tried burning Trent’s charm in the fire pit by his house, but it didn’t work. It only worked once we threw it in the fireplace. If we had a fireplace or something, it would be easier, but it has to be a wood fire, and we have no fireplace!” Adrian seems frustrated about something, but you can’t tell what. Maybe he’s mad at you? You think of the image at the Saria’s house. Does Adrian really laugh at you? _

__ _ “Go get some wood, okay? And try not to let mom and dad see you.” Adrian shoos you away. A dismissal. You shuffle away, feeling dejected, despite the soft way Adrian had said it. The last thing you saw as you close the door, was the fire insignia on Adrian’s little box of matches. _

__ _ \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

__ _ You keep quiet as you go down the stairs. It’s dark without Adrian around. You wish he came with you. The smell of food and burning grows stronger as you reach the first floor. Mom and dad are still hanging around in the kitchen. Hopefully they won’t see you…. _

__ _ “Oh! Honey, I had no idea you were back!” It’s mom, in all her graceful gory. You nod. Mom’s face reminds you of the beautiful winter days, when the snow would sparkle in the rising sun. She would sit there, writing is her book about whatever came to mind. A lot like how you would write down nifty songs in your notebook. You wonder where mom’s journal is. Dad hears mom talking and joins the conversation.  _

_ “Heya sweetie! How was the forest?” Dad looks very happy. You don’t think he’ll be happy much longer. You can remember the days when he would bounce you on his knee. Once, he took you to a festival to get your picture taken. It was a lovely moment for the entire family. You’re pretty sure mom kept the picture from that day somewhere. Will you ever be happy like that again?  _

_ You need to get wood before that charm does anything bad. You mutter some excuse to them and walk away. For some reason you get the urge to go back. To say goodbye. To say you love them. To tell them you appreciate them. But you don’t. You skip by them like they mean nothing.  _

_ (Sorry.) _

_ You step out the back door. It’s cold outside. You hum a christmas tune that you remember from a distant time a year before.  _ Oh, baby it’s cold outside~  _ Hum hum. La la. Lei lei. Lu lu. Do do. Collect wood and hold it close. Da da. Tra tra. Tralala. Trololo. Trilili. Sing a song, sing with me. You spin a few intricate circles in the grass. It’s fun to dance in the grass, gathering wood, and not caring about the bad things.  _

__ _ But you can’t stay that way forever, and you don’t. You take your sticks inside, dodging mom and dad on the way. You try to go back, try to set down the wood and embrace your family. Deal with the charm later. But you can’t. Your body is out of your control. Why can’t you change your course? Why can’t you take control of yourself?  _

__ _ Before giving the wood to Adrian, you stop in your room and grab your song notebook. Maybe once this whole this is finished, you can write down a few songs. Yeah. That’ll calm your nerves.  _

_ You open the door to Adrian’s room. Is it just you or is the world moving faster now? When did you get up the stairs? _

_ Adrian takes the wood, not speaking. He’s set up an area on the floor with no wood on it. He taped down an aluminum sheet and set a bunch of rocks in a circle around the aluminum. This is his makeshift fireplace? Well, it will have to do, you don’t have any other ideas anyway. Adrian sets the wood in the makeshift fireplace, then lights it with the matches. The flame lights in seconds. You back away, scared of the sudden flame.  _

__ _ (I don’t like fire.) _

__ _ You try not to stare too long. The fire makes the room much warmer. Adrian holds the charm above the fire. A wave of something odd washes over you. It pulls at your heartstrings. You don’t want to listen to it, but it calls to you. It’s the music from the Lost Woods. It begins to play in your head. You can hear Saria talking to you, reminding you of all the bad things people have done. All the bad things people have said to you. The way the smoke image Adrian had laughed as his friends teased you. Why did he do it? Why did everyone have to be so cruel? The charm. It could help you. You want it. You want it. You WANT IT. It’s YOUR CHARM. GIVE IT BACK. GIVE. ME. MY. CHARM!  _

__ _ “GIVE IT TO ME!” You lunge for the charm, stomach barely grazing the fire. You can feel the heat scorching your shirt black. Adrian pulls back, just in time to keep the charm. “GIVE IT!” You shout louder, your voice not your own. It’s the voice of Saria, speaking through your body. “I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU, BOY! GIVE ME THE CHARM, OR THE GIRL DIES.” Saria holds your hand of the fire, barely touching the flames.  _

__ _ Adrian’s eyes widen as he realises what’s happening. You try to fight, try to do something to move your body, but you can’t. It’s not working. It’s not working! Move, move you stupid body!  _

__ _ Adrian’s handing over the charm.  _

__ _ (No, don’t do it!) _

__ _ Saria is using your hand to take it.  _

__ _ (Please, stop!)  _

__ _ You move.  _

__ _ You move. _

__ _ It’s working. _

__ _ You pull free of Saria’s grasp and throw the charm in the fire.  _

__ _ Adrian cheers, but is cut short by a crackling sound.  _

__ _ In the struggle, a few enders of the fire had set Adrian’s box of matches on fire. He had left it by the fire, and now it was aflame, setting everything around it on fire as well. You try to stamp it out, but it refuses to douse. Adrian tries to find a water bottle to pour over the fire, but there’s nothing here. The room is slowly catching aflame, and you are powerless to stop it.  _

__ _ “Adrian!” You choke through the rising smoke. Your hand burns as you try to reach for him. It’s no use, the fire is too hot. It’s making the house unbearable. There are shouts from downstairs, your parents desperately trying to push upstairs. Trying to save their children. It’s too late. The floor groans under your feet. Cracks being to form along the wood, like lightning strikes along a dark sky. Your family is shouting loudly as the house goes up in flames. You’re trapped, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Adrian is shouting something, but you can’t hear him over the roar of the fire. It’s slowly burning his clothes, singeing his skin and filling his hair with ash. He looks scared, but he points at the window on the far side of his room. It’s just small enough for a child to crawl through.  _

__ _ You grasp his meaning, stepping as slowly and quickly as possible. The floor is still riddled with cracks, and you can feel parts of it buckling under your weight. If you were any bigger, the floor might have collapsed under your feet. When you reach him by the window, Adrian embraces you. The sounds of screaming and a large crash force the two of you apart. You need to move now, or you may never escape. Adrian opens the window, only struggling a bit with the latch. Once it’s open,he gestures for you to go first.  _

__ _ You hesitate. What are you supposed to do? You live on the second story, the only other option is to jump.  _

__ _ (It’s better than burning to death!)  _

__ _ With the help of your brother, you crouch in the window sil. The night air is warm, and the flames are licking closer, so you jump. For a moment you’re falling through the air. You silently wonder if you’ll fall forever. You don’t. When you hit the ground, you can feel something break. Adrian is asking if you’re all right. You can’t answer, the pain is making you black out.  _

_ From the corner of your eye you can see your music journal. It must have gotten loose from your pocket in the fall A few of the pages are burned, but otherwise it looks fine. Not to far from your position in the grass is your mother’s journal. She must have left it out here the last time she was writing in it. She could be so forgetful sometimes. You began to cry. Here you are, making fun of your mother, when she could be dead.  _

__ _ “Sis!” Adrian shouts at you. You look up, just in time to see Adrian, crouched in the window sill, fall as the home you grew up in collapses. Over the sounds of screams and broken wood, you can hear the sounds of sirens. They’re getting closer. You don’t think you’ll last long enough to see them. As you think this, the blackness finally claims you, and in the warm night air, the paramedics load you into their ambulance. They drive away immediately, leaving one paramedic behind to help anyone else who is hurt.  _

__ _ Not to far away, a policeman picks up your music book and mom’s journal. He flips through both of them absentmindedly while the firemen around him put out the fire. When the fire is finally gone, he helps everyone else look for survivors.  _

__ _ “Jim!” The policeman calls to one of the paramedics that stayed behind. Jim bounds over with a spring in his step.  _

__ _ “What’s tha matta offica?”  _

__ _ “Will the child live?”  _

__ _ “If I know ma buddies, they’ll hav’ her out ina jiffy!” _

__ _ “She’ll have to be put in foster care….” _

__ _ “Ah, tha girl’ll be fine. Besides, wha’s tha worst tha can happen?” _

__ _ “Well, I guess you’re right. I better hurry after your…’buddies’...I need to give these books to that kid. They’re the only things she has left of her family.” _

__ _ “Don’ be so dramatic, offica! I’m sure whereva she goes, she’ll love it!” _

__ _ “I hope you’re right Jim. I hope you’re right.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, the end of part 1, only a day late. What's in store for our heroine now?  
> (Also, part 2 will be out Friday, and you will finally wake up.)  
> ([Also, also, Jim is my favorite out of all the characters. I don't know why. Maybe it's the accent?]) 
> 
> As always criticism is appreciated. Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~<3


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